


Quietly

by starlightpeddler



Series: The Quietly Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 109,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightpeddler/pseuds/starlightpeddler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus and Scorpius aren't sure what they're doing when their relationship starts to change, and they discover the complexities of balancing a relationship and keeping secrets while immersed in Hogwarts where nothing stays quiet for long. As they find their footing in uncharted territory, Scorpius finds out he bears a heavier burden than just the Malfoy name, and Albus realizes some things are more important than his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Quietly (Übersetzung)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11181687) by [Silent_Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_Storm/pseuds/Silent_Storm)



**Part 1**

There were several reasons why Harry Potter had been dreading his yearly trip to Platform 9 3/4. The first was that he hated saying goodbye to his children. After all the mayhem and deadly situations he’d got himself into while at Hogwarts, a part of him always feared that the last he’d see of one of his children would be their laughing faces through the windows of the Hogwarts Express as it pulled away from the station.

The second was that he always felt so old and tired as he watched them join up with their friends. James had left Hogwarts the year before, but he hadn’t been able to get away from work to see his siblings off.  _I’m very new at Gringotts_ , he said.  _Besides, Uncle Bill would have my head if I left him to prep for his next trip alone_.

Harry felt Lilly pull her ever-growing hand from his and watched as she excitedly ran down the platform to greet a group of girls who met her with open arms and high-pitched chattering.

The third, and perhaps the most crushing of them all was that he wanted to get on the train with them.

Every time he dropped the children off at the Hogwarts Express, he yearned to go back to his Hogwarts days and experience the school normally, as a normal student, without the complications that came from being Harry Potter. With the smell of the steam coming from the train came memories of Halloween feats, snowball fights in the courtyard, the roar of the Quidditch pitch, the sense of danger that came with entering Snape’s classroom...

Harry sighed as Ginny slid her hand into his.

“Lily left her trolley here,” she pointed out.

“It’s fine,” said Albus over Harry’s shoulder. Harry looked up at his son, who had grown at least four inches over the summer. At sixteen he was near six feet tall – and he’d likely be taller than Harry someday, which irked him only slightly. Albus bent over his sister’s trolley, unstrapped her trunk, and carried it to the cargo hold of the train. Harry grabbed her second bag and followed.

“She’s just excited is all,” said Albus. “Most of her friends went away this summer.”

“Well, so did yours,” said Harry. He slid the bag in on top of the trunk. Both men stood up, and Harry noticed that Albus’ eyes were darting about, though he tried to hide it. “I can’t say it wasn’t nice having all of you home for a while.”

Albus nodded. In the last year, he’d calmed down and took the time to understand where his father was coming from. He tried to listen more than he talked, and Harry had much appreciated it.

“It was nice, wasn’t it?”

Harry smiled, his heart eased. A parent was never sure if their child tolerated spending time with them or if they actually enjoyed it.

“I just hope that we can have a good holiday with your brother this year,” said Harry with a chuckle. “He’s spent the last two Christmases visiting girlfriends, and I think I actually forgot to give him his present last year.”

Albus opened his mouth to speak - probably to say that they should just stop buying James things since he’d be making more than all of them as a Gringotts official soon - but his words were interrupted by the grin that spread across his face. He’d seen something over Harry’s shoulder, and whatever it was - whoever it was - had quite brightened his mood.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. It was easy to spot the Malfoys as always. Their hair stood out in the crowd.

“Oh, go on,” said Harry. “I’ll get your trunk. Just make sure you kiss your mother goodbye.”

Albus smiled and hugged his father tightly.

“Thanks, dad.”

“I’ll see you soon,” said Harry, placing a light kiss on Albus’ temple before letting go. “Be careful. And write, even if it’s just to let us know everything’s okay.”

Harry thought he heard Albus acquiesce, but he’d already turned to place a hasty kiss on his mother’s cheek and give her a brief hug before disappearing into the crowd.

And with that, Lily and Albus were gone.

Harry took Albus’ trunk and made sure it was safely in the cargo hold of the train before the conductor blew his whistle. A few of the train’s staff walked down the platform, closing the compartments and ushering the stragglers into the train. As the crowd began to thin, Lily caught his eye and waved to him, blowing a kiss with one hand, her other on the arm of a friend. As he waved back, she was enveloped by the group of girls who laughed, climbing into one of the compartments.

In the distance, Harry saw Albus’ mop of dark hair above the others, and he saw Scorpius - slightly tan, and slightly sunburnt - tossing his trunk into the last open cargo compartment at the end of the train. He caught Albus giving Scorpius that wicked grin before the two boys all but bound onto the train, disappearing, and Harry wondered if he was up to something.

“And they’re gone,” said Ginny, resting her head against Harry’s bicep. He wrapped his arm around her as the train’s whistle blew and even more steam billowed from the front. He scanned the windows nearby but couldn’t see his children, and sighed as the train began to move slowly from the station.

“I hate seeing them go,” he said, “but at least they seem happy. I suppose that’s all that matters.”

“Oh, we had them all summer,” said Ginny. She turned to wrap both her arms around his waist and tilted her head back to look at him. A bit of gray had begun to peek out of her red hair around her temples, and Harry brushed a piece of it from her face. “Besides, there are some benefits. James will be working late, so we have the house to ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “And what were you thinking we’d do today?”

“Well,” Ginny began. She had the same wicked grin James did. “I was thinking -”

“I didn’t even get to see Albus and Lily,” came Hermione’s voice. Harry looked over to see her striding toward him, Ron in tow. “I wanted to at least wish them a good year.”

“Oh, they know,” said Harry. He kissed Ginny atop the head and let her go so she could hug her brother.

“Yeah,” said Ron. “And I had some things from the joke shop for Albus.”

“The last thing Albus needs is any help getting in trouble,” said Harry, thinking of the mischievous look on his son’s face. He sighed. “Save it for Christmas.”

“I’ve got a rare afternoon off,” said Hermione.

“Well.”

A voice came from behind them. Harry hadn’t quite learned not to cringe when he heard Draco Malfoy’s voice unexpectedly, but when he turned around, his somewhat-friend seemed to be wearing a smile.

“If the Minister for Magic happens to have the afternoon off, then I suppose I should treat you all to tea,” said Draco.

Harry glanced to his family to see what they thought - if they had the time and the willingness - and saw that Ron was blinking excessively.

“That would actually be lovely,” said Hermione. She was always quick with the olive branch.

“Yes, I think it would,” agreed Ginny.

“Good.”

Harry noticed that Draco wasn’t wearing black for the first time in many years. Instead, he wore a blazer in a dark shade of green. It was a start.

“Besides, Potters,” he said to Ginny and Harry, sliding his hands into his pockets and meeting Harry’s eyes. “I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

* * *

 

Draco took them to a suitably hoity-toity tea room in muggle London. While Hermione seemed quite at home and Ginny was intrigued, Ron was a fish out of water. For a brief moment, he seemed to forget that his tea wasn’t going to stir its self, and he just sat there, looking at his spoon.

“I think we’ve been secluded in the wizarding world a bit too much,” said Hermione with a smile. Ron gave her a sheepish sort of look.

“So, Draco,” began Ginny, folding her hands beneath her chin and looking at Malfoy. “What did we need to talk about.”

Draco leaned back to allow the waitress to top off his tea. He’d consumed his first cup rather quickly, Harry noticed.

“Our sons,” said Draco.

“What are they up to now?” Harry was deadpan, all amusement gone from his voice. They’d had one blessed drama-free year, and he’d sincerely hoped for another one.

“Oh, nothing like that,” assured Malfoy. He took another sip of his tea. “I’ve noticed Scorpius spending a lot more time writing recently. I’d noticed it last Christmas, but didn’t think too much of it, but over the summer while we were traveling, he was using the owls all the time. I don’t mind - there are plenty where we were staying -”

Ron scoffed.

“But it was constant. So I asked him who he was writing to. At first, he said ‘friends,’ but I pressed. Frankly, I wanted to know if he had a girlfriend.”

Ginny sat back in her chair, her brow furrowed.

“You know, Albus wrote a lot too.”

“Yes,” said Draco. “Exactly. Eventually, I pressed hard enough that he told me he was writing to Albus.”

Harry looked at Ginny, confused.

“Is that a big deal?” Harry looked at each of their faces. “I wrote to Ron and Hermione over the summers.”

“Once or twice?” Draco asked. Harry nodded.

“This was constant,” said Ginny. “Every day. Sometimes more than once a day.”

“And then, I started paying closer attention,” said Draco. “Scorpius enjoyed our visits to the magical sites across the continent and Asia, I think, but he always seemed a bit anxious. His mood would improve drastically and completely whenever he’d receive a letter. And over the last week since we were home he was impatient - going for walks, packing well before he had to, checking thrice to make sure he had everything.”

“Albus kept talking about him," Ginny said as if she were agreeing with Draco. “Little things. I’d buy a different brand of crackers and he’d say ‘oh, these are Scorpius’ favorite kind,’ or Harry would talk about something at work and it’d be -”

“’Scorpius told me this, or Scorpius mentioned that’,” finished Harry.

“Indeed.” Draco’s voice was flat, and he looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny. For a long moment, the three parents just looked at each other, until Ron broke the silence.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “What’s the big deal.”

“They’re gay,” said Harry, the truth of his son’s behavior dawning on him. “Nothing wrong with that, it’s just...”

“Unexpected?” Ginny sounded uncertain.

“Unexpected.”

“I agree,” said Draco. “Unexpected.”

Silence settled on the table again until Hermione sipped her tea and set her cup down on the saucer delicately.

“Well, I guess this means I owe Rose ten galleons,” she said finally.

“What?” Ginny turned to her. “Wait, did you have a bet on whether or not our son was gay?”

“No,” said Hermione. “We’ve known they were for ages. The bet was on when you lot would figure it out.”

Ginny and Draco stared, agape, as Hermione looked to Harry, grinning.

“To be fair, I lost because she had more faith in you.”

* * *

 

Albus and Scorpius bounded into the train, shoulder, to look for a vacant car. Albus had both their school bags over his shoulder while Scorpius carried the cage of his new, sleeping cat Freya under his arm, their free hands between them brushing with each step. Albus could see Scorpius’ smile out of the corner of his eye, and it was all he could do not to look. He knew that once he did, he was risking losing what bit of composure he had.

They moved in silence, dodging excited first and second years darting through the narrow corridor. A pack of young boys came running towards them, chasing flying sparks down the hall, and when Albus and Scorpius moved out of the way, Albus felt Scorpius’ hand travel up the sleeve of his robe between them, brushing the sensitive skin of his inner arm.

He shivered, gritting his teeth behind his smile, and chanced a look at Scorpius.

They were nearly the same height for now, though Albus was just a bit taller for the first time since they’d met. Albus met his eyes – startled as he often was at how light they were – and his smile broadened. They stood there for only a brief moment as the first years passed, but it was enough for Albus to notice a few things, like the longer hair that fell around his neck and the shaggy fringe across his forehead. He noticed a summer tan, but still a bit of pink across the bridge of his nose and cheeks where a few freckles had sprung up, and the way his slightly darker skin made his eyes just _glow_.

Scorpius grinned at him as the last of the young ones passed, and Albus’ mission of finding a compartment was renewed with a vengeance.

They kept walking, bridging one car to the next in silence, and Albus turned it all over in his mind. The fight they’d had last year at Easter break over whether or not Albus was starting to ignore him for girls he didn’t even really like. The silence they began their finals revisions in. The way Scorpius had broken down in the library late at night under the stress and finally - finally - started telling Albus that he couldn’t handle everyone asking which girl he was taking to the end-of-year dance because he didn’t want to take a girl at all.

He remembered his confusion. The two days of thinking where they both pretended nothing happened - when Albus tried to convince himself that he really did like Jenna, who he’d asked out a week ago because he thought he had to since she helped him with his Potions homework - and how they went to bed in silence each night without talking about their days.

And he remembered when they wound up in the dormitory at the same time one unremarkable evening a few weeks before school ended, each just looking for some quiet amid the finals frenzy that had taken over the Slytherin common room. He remembered Scorpius’ anxious ranting that blended into an unnecessary apology and the way his voice cracked - a combination of puberty and nerves - saying that he didn’t want anything to change, and that not losing Albus as a friend was the most important thing of all.

_‘I just don’t want anything to change,’ Scorpius ranted, his voice cracking a tiny bit in the middle. ‘I_ had _to be honest with you. I had to tell you the truth, but I don’t want it to mean anything changes between us.’_

_Albus stared at him in silence, dumbfounded at what he’d walked in on, watching him pace back and forth, gesturing frantically as if it would help make his point._

_‘Oh, it doesn’t matter, does it? That I’m gay? It shouldn’t. You’re friends with Rose and she’s a girl and she likes boys, but I suppose that’s different since she’s your cousin and all, but it shouldn’t matter, right? I mean, I thought about how I’d tell you for weeks, and I did it badly, I know and I’m so sorry, but it’s just finals are hard this year and_ there’s _all the tests and this was just one more thing to think about and I just cracked, okay? I’m sorry.’_

_Scorpius’ voice cracked three times in the middle, and Albus felt a wave of calm spread over him, and a smile spread across his face, not that Scorpius noticed in his self-induced panic._

_How had he not seen it? And how had he not recognized what he was feeling all along? That his best friend was right there suffering in all the same ways he was, but that he’d ignored?_

I guess I am my father’s son, _Albus thought._ The general lack of introspection _._

_Scorpius resumed his rant after a long breath and Albus folded his arms, watching him walk back and forth, back and forth. How hadn’t he understood?_

_‘It’s scary. I’m already so different and I didn’t want to subject you to the rumors, not until I had to so I waited. Why make you deal with it? It’s my problem, it doesn’t seem fair.’_

_‘It’s our problem,’ said Albus, hoping it would be enough, but when Scorpius got like this, he didn’t hear or see anything than what was spinning in his head._

_‘I just let everyone down in all these little ways and I didn’t know if I’d be disappointing you too -’_

_Albus knew the only way to stop this was drastic measures, so he strode forward and grabbed Scorpius’ hand roughly, gripping it tight, and cupped the side of his face with his other hand before kissing him._

_Scorpius was cut off mid-word, but which word, he wasn’t sure anymore. He just stopped thinking. There was all this warmth around him suddenly, and he was very disoriented, so it took him a moment to comprehend that it was Albus, smelling of grass and earth from the Quidditch pitch and the ink from notes left smeared on his hands. It was Albus, who he’d literally undone time for, and given up an entire kingdom to save._

_It was Albus who had his hand, and his face and his lips and his body pressed up against him - the only friend he’d ever had and the only person who’d loved him even though he didn’t have to - and Scorpius melted as he kissed him back, just a little at first and then all at once, leaning into Albus as he leaned back, finding his own hand pressed into Albus’ back and shoulders and in his hair, then under the back of his shirt - just a bit - to run his fingers across the skin just above his belt._

_It seemed like an eternity and only a second until Albus broke away from him and pressed his forehead against Scorpius’, his breathing heavy and labored, and Scorpius was afraid to open his eyes - afraid he might see regret looking back at him._

_‘Shut up,’ Albus said. Scorpius had never heard him sound so raspy, but he knew he liked it._

_‘Just shut up, okay?’ Albus’ hand rested on the back of Scorpius’ neck and he finally released his pseudo-death grip on Scorpius’ hand, and for a brief moment while still in darkness, Scorpius was afraid that was the end of the moment, but Albus wrapped his arm around Scorpius’ waist, holding him closer._

_‘I don’t know what I’m doing,’ Albus continued, his voice as shaky as Scorpius’ knees felt. ‘But I’ve never felt more relieved and... excited in all my life.’_

_Scorpius opened his eyes and there was Albus, staring back at him, just an inch away with his bright green eyes the shape of almonds and his hand still on the back of his neck._

_Scorpius swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t want to lose you.’_

_Albus straightened for a moment and shook his head, releasing Scorpius only enough to push his disheveled hair back from his face._

_‘You’re not going to lose me,’ said Albus. ‘No matter what.’_

_This time, Scorpius kissed Albus, slow and tentative and gentle - the way he’d always wanted to, with one hand in Albus’ hair and the other resting on his chest, just above his heart._

Albus was done remembering. He’d been remembering all summer, and those last few weeks of school had given him blessed little to dwell on. He pulled open the last compartment door and found it thankfully vacant. The train was moving into the London suburbs now, and the beginnings of a rainstorm were starting to come down. He dropped the bags in the far corner of the compartment as Scorpius pulled the door shut. Before Albus could turn around he heard the distinct click of the lock, and the pulling of the shade.

When he turned around, Scorpius had put the cat’s cage up on the shelf and he threw his robes down on the seat, beginning to loosen his tie, but Albus didn’t give him the chance. He pushed Scorpius back against the door, pinning him against it, and kissing him with all the ferocity that had built up inside him the entire summer.

Scorpius reciprocated, his hands coming up between them to wrap around Albus’ shoulders, which were somehow just a bit higher and a bit wider than he remembered them from a few months ago. His hands tangled in Albus’ hair and he moaned against his will, pressing himself against Albus’ body, though he had nowhere to move.

They kissed, and Albus couldn’t breathe and he wasn’t sure how he was still alive, but he couldn’t stop. He pressed his lips into Scorpius’, his tongue on the back of his teeth, tasting licorice and coffee. He didn’t have control over his own voice - or his hands, for that matter, which had somehow found the inside of Scorpius’ shirt and after a few moments, Scorpius laughed against Albus’ lips until they broke apart. Albus didn’t release him.

“Hi,” Albus said breathlessly.

“Hi,” said Scorpius, contentedly. He looked up at Albus and smiled. “I still have a bit of a sunburn.”

“I’m sorry, I think,” said Albus, grinning, giving Scorpius a bit of space that he didn’t seem to want. Scorpius kissed him again for just a moment before burying his face in Albus’ neck and closing his eyes. Albus bowed his head, holding Scorpius tight, and the pair swayed as the train turned and jarred under their feet.

“I missed you,” said Scorpius, his arms tightening around Albus’ neck.

“I missed you too,” said Albus, turning his face into Scorpius’ hair and breathing deeply. “So much.”

They stood there in silence for a few moments longer until a particularly violent jostle from the tracks forced both boys to grab onto the overhead racks for stability. Albus looked at Scorpius, and then to the pet crate, which had begun to meow softly.

“You didn’t tell me you wanted a cat,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Scorpius, pulling the crate down. Albus noticed his cheeks were still flushed with more than a sunburn, and he smiled with a bit of pride. “I actually found her in Tai Pei. They have something similar to Diagon Alley in their downtown, and she was just sitting there in the window, looking sad and forlorn -”

“And that’s always the fastest way to get your attention,” said Albus, taking a seat. Scorpius shot him a narrow-eyed look and pulled a white, shorthaired cat from the crate.

“This is Freya. Freya, meet Albus.”

Scorpius sat Freya in Albus’ lap and watched as the two sized each other up. Freya’s tail moved from side to side languidly as she straightened up to meet Albus’ eyes. Albus stared back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. They sat that way for a long minute, until Freya decided she wasn’t ready to plot Albus’ demise just yet, and leaped off his lap, sauntered over to the corner of the compartment, and laid down.

  
“Well, I guess she accepts me,” Albus said, looking up at Scorpius who stood with this hands in his pockets, uncertainty on his face. It struck Albus as odd that, months later, it was he who was more comfortable with... well, with whatever was going on, even though he was the last to catch on.

“What’s wrong, Scorp?” Albus asked. He reached out in front of him and grabbed Scorpius’ sleeve - his hand was just a bit too far away - and tugged at it. “Come here. Sit down.”

Scorpius looked at him for a beat, distress making lines between his brows, before taking a seat beside Albus. The cat did not acknowledge his presence, but Scorpius gave her an obligatory pat on the head anyway.

“What’s going on,” Albus asked again. Scorpius took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment before taking Albus’ hand in his own.

“What are we doing?” Scorpius asked, turning to meet Albus’ eyes. “What is this?”

“This?” Albus asked, gesturing between them. “I don’t know. It’s us?”

“Is it? I mean... are we like, together?”

“We’re always together.”

“You know what I mean. I just... I’m worried. I don’t know how my father would react,” Scorpius said, his eyes sliding to stare out the window. The rain was coming down in sheets now, clouding the view of the cottages and hills. “He finally seems normal, after mum... and I don’t know what he’d do or say and I don’t want to slip back into… whatever it was he was going through.”

Albus took a few breaths, trying to figure out what to say. Scorpius moved as if to pull his hand away, but Albus held onto it tight.

“I don’t need public validation, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Albus finally. “And it’s really not anyone else’s business, is it?”

“That we snog when we’re alone?” Scorpius asked, his eyes flickering back to Albus.

“Is that what this is?”

Scorpius was tentative. “N-no.”

“Okay, then.” Albus reached up behind Scorpius and ruffled the longer hair at the nape of his neck. “What’s all this about?”

“I don’t know,” said Scorpius with a smile. He reached up and rubbed under Albus’ chin where a patch of stubble was coming through. “What’s all this about?”

“Hey!” Albus rubbed under his chin, pouting. “I worked hard for that.”

“Sure you did.”

Scorpius leaned into Albus, resting his head on his shoulder, letting Albus play with his hair absently until, after a long while, Albus’ fingers went still and became heavy. Scorpius looked up and saw Albus beginning to nod off, his eyelids heavy as well.

“Hey,” he said softly, extracting himself. Albus’ arm dropped onto the seat and he looked around, dazed. “Switch with me.”

Albus didn’t argue. He gave Scorpius the spot in the corner where he settled in, and Scorpius let him stretch out across the seats - careful not to disturb the cat - and rested his head in Scorpius’ lap with his long legs stretched out to the floor. Scorpius looked down at him as he closed his eyes and drifted off, studying the planes of his face and edges of his jaw as he carefully twisted Albus’ dark hair around his fingertips.

 


	2. Hogwarts

By the time Albus stirred and woke, the sun was already setting. Even in his grogginess, he could sense hours had passed and they were close to Hogwarts, and when he looked up at Scorpius, a book in his hand and square, thin-rimmed glasses on his nose, he realized that for the first time he was truly happy to be going back to school.

He watched Scorpius’ eyes dart from one edge of the page to the other, quickly. Methodically. He always envied the way Scorpius could devour books - textbooks and novels alike. It appeared, though that all that reading had caught up to his eyesight, however.

“Hey,” Albus said, his voice scratchy from sleep. Scorpius moved his book away and smiled down at him, using his free hand to brush Albus’ hair back.

“Hey, you. You’ve been asleep for a while.”

“These are new,” Albus said, reaching up and touching the edge of Scorpius’ glasses before lightly touching his cheek. “So are the freckles.”

Scorpius smiled and took the glasses off. “I finally couldn’t read without them. So stupid, reading all those years in the dark. They look silly.”

“Oh, leave them on. They’re cute.”

Scorpius put his glasses back on before looking out the window.

“We’re almost there,” he said. “Maybe another twenty minutes.”

Albus groaned. “I don’t want to get there just yet,” he said. “Can’t we stay on the train?”

“Sadly, no,” said Scorpius. “We’ve got to go in and face another year. Hopefully another relatively quiet one.”

“I don’t know,” said Albus, sitting up, and in the action disturbing the cat who had barely moved. Freya hissed and jumped, running across the compartment to the other side. “I remember the last few weeks of the year being pretty eventful.”

Scorpius blushed and tucked his book back in his bag.

“You scared my cat.”

“I don’t think your cat is going to like me much,” said Albus. Scorpius got up and scooped Freya into his arms, where she contentedly curled into his chest, purring as he scratched her head.

“Nonsense,” he declared. “She’ll like you just fine. She just needs to get to know you is all.”

Albus watched as Scorpius swayed back and forth with Freya and frowned deeply. How many more moments like this would he get? If they weren’t going to tell people they were together - if this was even _together_ \- would it just be like it was before?

“When am I going to get to see you?”

“What?” Scorpius looked down at him, perplexed.

“You said you don’t want anyone to know we’re... _whatever_ -”

“What?” Scorpius sat Freya back down. “What do you mean, whatever?”

“Well, I said I didn’t need public validation, and -”

Albus was cut off. Scorpius knelt down in front of where he was sitting and took both of Albus’ hands in his own.

“Let me make myself clear. Just because I don’t want people to know doesn’t mean I’m ashamed, Albus,” said Scorpius. “Don’t ever think that. I’m just trying to work a few things out first, is all.”

Albus nodded slowly. He wasn’t sure what to say - what the right thing would be or where his boundaries were anymore. This was uncharted territory. He hadn’t even had a real girlfriend before, so how was he supposed to know what to say or do in a relationship? James hadn’t exactly set a good example - none of the Gryffindor girls from his year would even speak to him anymore.

“And don’t think that because I want to be quiet about it that I don’t care about you.” Scorpius ducked down a bit to see through Albus’ hair where it had fallen forward. “I care about you very much.”

“I care about you too.” Albus looked back at him, meeting his eyes which were pleading, afraid, and urgent all at once. Scorpius had lost so much already, and he couldn’t bear to burden him. “I’m not letting this go just because other people are around. There’s nothing wrong with us being together.”

“And that’s what we are,” said Scorpius. “I mean, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes,” Albus smiled. “That’s what I want. And if we don’t tell anyone or act like it in public until you’re comfortable and I’m comfortable, that’s fine.”

Scorpius smiled, took Albus’ face into his hands, and kissed him gently and slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, until the train began to slow down. Scorpius tried to ignore it and pretend that they had more time, but when the brakes began to squeal, he had to admit the truth.

“Time’s up, I guess,” said Scorpius, standing, but once again, Albus didn’t let go of his hand.

“We’ll find time, right?” Albus asked.

“Of course we will. We’re together all the time, right? Some of it’s bound to be alone,” Scorpius chuckled. Albus released him. and the boys stood up, adjusting their ties and pulling their robes back on. Albus reached over absently and straightened Scorpius’ collar as he picked up their bags and handed Scorpius’ over.

“Here,” said Albus. “I guess I can’t be seen carrying your books for you.”

Scorpius pulled his bag on and put Freya back in her cage, picking it up too.

“It’ll be fine, Albus. We’re always fine.”

* * *

 

The feast was as it always was - loud and boisterous, and Albus and Scorpius both ate too much. They greeted the new Slytherins as they were sorted, watching as they made their way across the great hall and to the table with shaky knees and nervous smiles.

Scorpius leaned back and muttered to Albus: “We were never that small.”

“No, not at all.”

They laughed and dived into the next round of mashed potatoes and chicken legs.

When the feast broke up, the pair took their time walking down to the Slytherin common room, talking about what the new year might bring. Before turning into the dungeons, Scorpius looked up and saw Rose climbing the stairs towards Gryffindor tower with Lily in tow.

“Do you ever wish you’d been sorted into Gryffindor?” Scorpius asked as they turned the corner into the dungeons. “I mean, that’s where the rest of your family is.”

“No,” said Albus without hesitation. “At first, I thought I would hate being in Slytherin but it’s been much better than I thought. Maybe I just got lucky with the people that are in our year. They don’t fit that stereotype.”

Scorpius looked ahead of them to the other boys of their year - Flint, Farley and Pucey were all decent young men performed well in class and just happened to come from some of the oldest wizarding families.

They also all happened to be in love with Maggie Goyle, who walked between them, which had led to some tense silence in the evenings last year that Scorpius had monopolized on for quiet reading time.

Maggie had somehow escaped her father’s genetics and took after her mother, a German witch who, Scorpius assumed, had married Gregory Goyle for his money.

“But sometimes I think I don’t belong down here,” said Albus. Older students ushered the first years to the front as this year’s Slytherins gathered around the dormitory entrance. “I mean, I’m not particularly talented. Not like you. You’re great in all your classes.”

“Not true,” said Scorpius. The first years began filing into the common room, and the appropriate oohs and aahs could be heard at the back of the line. “I mean, you’re right that I’m good in all our classes, but you’re great in Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology. And sometimes in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Okay, well Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology don’t require any magical talent, and I was being taught defense before I was five because of my dad’s paranoia, so I’m not sure that counts as talent.”

“But you’re still really good at them, and you get by at everything else.”

“I’m going to have to try harder this year,” said Albus. They entered the common room and Albus breathed in the scents of leather, black tea, and oak. The dark glow from the lake windows made Albus feel like he was somewhere else - entirely removed from Hogwarts, his home, and everything he knew, and it was exactly what he needed.

“Hey, Potter! Malfoy!”

The boys looked up to see Flint and Pucey already reclining by the fireplace couch, making it known that this was their spot and no one else’s before it could be contested. Albus and Scorpius walked over to them and sat down on the nearby coffee table. Scorpius gave Pucey a quick whack on the head as he passed by, as was their custom.

“So did everyone have a good summer?” Albus asked. He pulled off his robe and Scorpius noticed that the back of his shirt was untucked and had to check the reflex to fix it.

Pucey nodded. “Went to Australia for most of it. Thought of you, Malfoy - I got stung by a scorpion. Hurt like hell.”

“Ugh,” said Flint. “That sounds awful. I actually wound up in America for a bit. Dad had some business with the Magical Congress, so we were in New York for most of it. Went hiking a bit south though, in the mountains. Found a Wampus cat.”

“Those are pretty rare,” said Albus.

“Yeah, and they’re mean,” said Flint.

“Dad and I went around the world touring some magical monuments and such,” said Scorpius. “We went to Egypt, Paris, Australia, China, Japan, and Russia.”

“I hung out with my sister.”

The other three boys looked at Albus.

“Yeah. I know. Clearly, I win.”

Pucey laughed. “It’s ok, Albus. You can’t win ‘em all.”

“I don’t win any of ‘em,” said Albus. “The farthest I’ve been out of the country lately was when dad went with the Minister to Germany a year ago and I complained until he took me with him.”

“But you had a good time, remember?” Scorpius nudged him. “You went to Berlin.”

“For a day.”

“Well, it’s something.” Scorpius looked down, somewhat ashamed. He knew the Potters were well off - they had a nice house and never really wanted for anything, but Harry and Ginny were dedicated to supporting their family instead of living solely off of the money James and Lily had left behind, meaning long vacations were few and far between.

“At least we’re back here now,” said Pucey. “I was actually starting to miss this dungeon.”

“I miss it when we’re on break,” said Scorpius. “It’s funny. I didn’t really like Hogwarts too much for the first few years. Now I wonder what life will be like when we’re gone.”

“No time to worry about that now,” said Farley as he approached. “We’ve got a whole year of Quidditch and parties and Hogsmeade visits to look forward to.”

Albus smiled to himself and looked at Scorpius beside him as he and Farley began talking about their course schedules. He had an entire year stretched ahead of him with his friends and Scorpius - his best friend? No, his person. And he couldn’t wait to see what happened next.


	3. Peace

The first week of classes came and went without much fanfare, and by the first full weekend back, Albus and Scorpius had settled back into their routines. Unfortunately, they learned pretty quickly that a few things weren’t going to work out.

“This is ridiculous,” muttered Scorpius as they walked down the hall. It was the first Monday back in class, and the honeymoon period of the term was long gone. “I only get to see you in our core classes, and we don’t have any of the same electives or free periods.”

“I know. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“And you’ve got Quidditch practice, and I’ve got dueling club on the nights you don’t have practice.”

“Well, you’re the one who decided dueling was important despite being an academic.”

“Sometimes academics go to risky places! You don’t know. Maybe I’ve been hiding my dangerous side this whole time.”

“You’re a massive geek, and the most dangerous thing you’ve done lately is climb on a table to get a book from a high shelf in the library.”

“It was a big book and it could have fallen on my head!”

“Look, all I’m saying is that it’s awkward, but it’s okay. It’s fine. I still see you, like right now. And look - we’re going to Transfiguration together, and then we’ve got Care of Magical Creatures later this afternoon -”

Scorpius stopped Albus before they walked into the classroom, tugging him to the side of the door. For the briefest moment, Albus was sure he saw his eyes dart around to make sure no one took notice.

“Look, I just don’t want you to think I’m not...”

“I know,” said Albus, trying to sound sure of himself and only feeling sure that he was failing miserably. He chose his words carefully. “Everything’s fine. I’m not... hurt or anything.”

Scorpius nodded, hearing the professor begin ushering students to their seats and let go of Albus’ sleeve. Maybe Albus was fine with it, but he wasn’t doing so well. 

* * *

 

September came and went, and with the autumn breeze came Quidditch season. Scorpius had long since resigned himself to watching intensely from the sidelines and offering post-game commentary to the Slytherin team. Even if he wasn’t a good enough player to join the team, he was an excellent strategist.

Albus spent most nights on the pitch, practicing with the team. When he, Flint, and Maggie Goyle came back from a last-minute practice on Friday evening, Scorpius was almost asleep in his armchair in the deserted common room.

“I don’t know how the hell Hufflepuff got that good this year,” said Maggie, taking off her muddy boots and placing them by the door. The elves would come and clean them before tomorrow morning. “I’m not going to be able to beat Johnson.”

Johnson, Hufflepuff’s 7th year keeper, was larger than anyone else on any of the other Quidditch teams.

“I’m most concerned about Greengrass,” said Albus. He gave Flint a knowing look. “I was watching her tonight before our practice started. She’s small but she’s a beast of a player. There’s no way I’ll catch the Snitch if she’s on her game. And their beaters shouldn’t be trifled with.”

“Greengrass’ eyesight is going,” said Scorpius. He set his book down on the table. Apparently, they hadn’t noticed he was there until he spoke. Albus gave him a warm smile and folded his arms, waiting for more.

“Didn’t you notice? She got glasses over the summer. I was watching her in class the other day. She was holding the books closer to her face, so they’re not doing their job. She’ll put her googles on over her glasses and that will make it worse. Keep her swarmed and she’ll be disoriented.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Flint, looking at Maggie. “You and Karen can take turns staying on her. Just move around in her periphery. That should be enough.”

“I’ll talk to her in the morning at breakfast,” said Maggie with a yawn. “Anyway, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“We all are,” said Albus, looking at Flint. “You’ve had us practicing all week.”

“Well, we weren’t operating as a unit. Three new players will do that to you. I’m going to head up. See you all in the morning,” said Flint, following Maggie down the hall toward the dorms. In the distance, he heard Flint complementing her on her style during practice.

“I’m thinking Flint has the edge with her,” said Albus. He took off his boots and placed them next to Maggie’s, then folded his robe and put it on top. “Quidditch gives him more time to pretend to be charming.”

“I guess that’s helpful,” said Scorpius, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Albus looked around and realized the room was empty.

“Were you waiting up for me?”

“What? No,” said Scorpius, stacking up his books. _Advanced Potions, A Guide to Transfiguration - Book 6_ , and _The Hobbit_. “I was just reading a bit, and...”

Albus raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. His hands were dirty, and his dark hair was a mess atop his head. Under his robes, he’d been wearing an old Cambridge shirt that he’d had for several years, and Scorpius noticed it had a new, fresh tear down the left side, underneath which was a shallow but still-bleeding scrape.

“Fine. Yes, I was waiting up for you,” he said, standing up and grabbing his wand from the table. “Because you always come back looking like this.”

“What? Oh,” said Albus. He looked down at his stomach where the scratch stretched from the top of his trousers to the middle of his stomach. “Yeah, I kind of skidded off my broom while chasing Maggie. We were just playing, and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Chasing Maggie?”

Scorpius pulled Albus over to one of the higher tables used for group studying and Gobstones games, and he leaned back on it. Scorpius pulled back the torn flap of Albus’ shirt and saw that it wasn’t one long scratch but several small lacerations. He’d clearly tumbled over his broom a couple of times. He wiped away the sand stuck to Albus’ skin, not bothering to be gentle.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“That hurt.”

“Do you want me to get Maggie so she can do it?”

Albus looked around, confused. “What’s happening?”

“Everyone else is chasing Maggie, so I guess you would too.”

“What the hell?”

“Stop moving.” Scorpius pointed his wand at Albus’s abdomen and started cleaning and healing them one by one. He’d always been good at these kinds of spells - the ones that are useful - unlike Albus.

“Scorp, we were doing speed drills. I’ve been a little slow coming back this season, and we were just making sure I was ready to go.”

“That’s nice.”

Albus’ skin burned as he was healed, and he tried to distract himself by watching Scorpius work. He looked tired - dark circles always cropped up under his eyes when he hadn’t slept well, and they were always prominent on his pale skin. His shirt was wrinkled from sleeping in the common room, his glasses were askew, and he smelled distinctly of pumpkin juice and parchment. It was rare that he was this disheveled, and Albus reached up without thinking much about it and nudged his glasses back into place.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

Scorpius sighed and straightened up, setting his wand down and purposefully avoiding Albus’ eyes. Albus looked down and saw that his skin was healed as if nothing happened.

“I’ve barely seen you all week. I know I don’t get to be jealous, and I certainly can’t get mad if you have other friends. I want you to have other friends,” said Scorpius. “I don’t know why. This year just seems harder than the others.”

“How on earth is this harder than fourth year?” Albus deadpanned. Scorpius laughed just a bit, and Albus sat back on the table, exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” said Albus. “I should try harder.”

“It’s not your fault,” admitted Scorpius. “You’ve had practice. I’ve had homework and Dueling Club -”

“How is that going by the way?”

“I think Rose and I are finally an even match,” smirked Scorpius. Albus had told him of Hermione’s directive to have Rose beat the youngest Malfoy at everything, and since then, Scorpius had made it a point to keep them on even ground at least. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m not mad. I’m just kind of... frustrated. I think I had all these ideas of what this year would be like and it’s so...”

“Normal. I know.”

Albus put his hands on Scorpius’ sides and pulled him closer to stand just between his knees, against the table. For a moment, he distracted himself by idly loosening Scorpius’ tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt.

“You look so uncomfortable,” said Albus. “It’s well after 10 o’clock. You shouldn’t even be wearing your tie.”

“Says the man who’s wearing a bloody, ripped-up shirt.”

“Yeah, well...” Albus ran is hands up and down Scorpius’ arms, wishing just a bit that he wasn’t wearing a shirt at all. “Thanks for taking care of the scrape. I’m rubbish at those spells and the infirmary is so depressing.”

“Anytime.”

Albus leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Scorpius, pulling him close to rest against his chest. He was warm, and in the stillness, Albus could hear his heartbeat.

“Just because I don’t see you all the time doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere,” said Albus, speaking into Scorpius’ shoulder.

Scorpius sighed and rested his chin atop Albus’ head. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Albus tilted his head back and looked at Scorpius for a long moment - longer than was necessary. His expression was soft under his blonde hair which, Albus noticed he’d still neglected to cut. He pulled Scorpius in just a bit closer and kissed him slowly and gently, and completely forgot about the match the next day, his neglected homework, Johnson’s snappy remark that he wasn’t as good a Seeker as his father, and everything else that he’d been worrying about.

They stayed there for a long time, whispering quietly, and finding their first bit of peace in weeks.

 


	4. Snitch

Hufflepuff had never been this rough. After escaping a remarkable bludger assault, Albus flew high above the pitch to catch his breath. He knew all of these students off the pitch and they were the nicest, most mild people he knew, but somehow their new captain had turned them into the most aggressive team Albus had faced yet.

He looked down and scanned the field. He’d only caught a brief glimpse of the Snitch a while ago, but he’d been busy dodging the beaters and trying to stay out of his own chasers’ way. The score wasn’t good either. The Hufflepuff keeper had been deflecting all of Slytherin’s shots, and they were down by 70.

It took him a while to orient himself, but after a few minutes, Albus descended, scanning the pitch. Faces in the stands came into focus, and in the middle of a crowd of green-clad students he saw Scorpius’ platinum blonde head. Even from a distance, he could see that Scorpius’ attention had followed him, not the rest of the game.

He was just thinking that he needed to make sure he mentioned this later when, in his periphery, Albus saw a flash of gold.

He didn’t think, he just followed. The Snitch was meters ahead of him, but the sunny day let him follow the gold glimmer at a decent pace. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only person chasing it. In his periphery, Albus saw a streak of yellow, and he lay himself down flat on his broom to gain speed. Specks of green and yellow in the distance neared, and he heard yelling - some from his teammates, and some from voices he didn’t even recognize.

Albus didn’t process them. He didn’t even think about them - he just focused on the Snitch, and on the posts as he neared the goals. The Snitch was headed straight for them, and he dodged the tallest one as the Snitch weaved around it and back towards the one to the right.

He heard his name yelled. He ignored it.  _Catch the Snitch and win the game._

_Catch the Snitch._

 

* * *

 

Scorpius pushed his glasses up on his nose and looked through his binoculars. Even if his eyesight were better, he wouldn’t be able to see the action all the way at the other end of the arena. He watched as Albus followed the Snitch, the Hufflepuff seeker, Greengrass, close behind. He watched as the rest of the teams converged on that end of the pitch, and he watched as Albus dodged the goalpost to chase the Snitch around another one.

  
He watched as Albus’ gloved hand reached out to grab the Snitch and he heard Maggie Goyle’s screech above the rest of the crowd and the players, and he watched as a bludger collided with Albus’ shoulder, throwing him from his broom and into the goalpost. The sound of his body hitting the metal reverberated throughout the stadium as a hush fell, but not as quickly as Albus did.

Scorpius couldn’t breathe, and time slowed down as he watched Albus’ robes whip around him in the air as he fell. He gripped the wooden railing of the stands in fear as he watched Madam Hooch react from her broom above the pitch, slowing Albus’ descent so that he came to a survivable halt in the sand below, creating a cloud of dust with the impact.

Scorpius didn’t know what to do. He dug his nails into the railing, breathing hard and staring, unblinking as all the players hit the ground hard. He couldn’t tell if his heart was racing or if it had stopped, but he knew the sensation well. It haunted him. It was that feeling of being out of place in time, just like using a time turner.

He watched the colors move as the binoculars slipped from his fingers to the floor of the stands. Green figures converged on one of the yellow ones as faculty members raced from their seats to the ground.

McGonagall’s voice boomed over the stands, telling students to stay where they were, but Scorpius was already moving, pushing his way through the crowd. The Slytherins let him pass, and he caught Pucey’s eye as he pushed his way through.

He must have looked mad or terrified because Pucey reacted immediately.

“Let us through!”

Pucey, who was a head shorter than both Scorpius and Albus but was stalky and powerful, grabbed Scorpius by the shoulder and together, they pushed through the crowd until they reached a stairwell.

Pucey cursed repeatedly as they rushed down the stairs, his voice echoing in the small space.

“What was he thinking with that bludger? Blimey, Marcus is never playing Quidditch ever again after this.”

“Did you see him moving?” Scorpius spoke before he could think to steady his voice. It was shaking nearly as bad as his hands. “Was he moving on the ground? I-I couldn’t see.”

Pucey stopped and looked up at him from a few steps below. If that much worry was etched across Pucey’s face, Scorpius couldn’t imagine what his own expression was like. Feeling was flooding back to his fingertips and his face all at once, and he realized his face was damp with tears too late to wipe them away.

“I’m sure he’s going to be fine, mate,” said Pucey. “But we need to go see for ourselves.”

Scorpius nodded and ran with Pucey down the remaining flights of stairs, and they burst through the door that led directly to the grass at the center of the pitch. Pucey took off at a run to cover the distance to the end of the pitch, but Scorpius was faster. Once he was in sight of where Albus lay, his legs moved at a pace he’d never experienced. He was imagining all sorts of injuries - broken arms and legs and ribs and bruises across Albus’ face - ones he couldn't heal with a simple spell.

He might not even be able to get near him.

McGonagall was standing between three Slytherin players - Goyle included, and the Hufflepuff beater Scorpius assumed was responsible. The tone of her voice was clear - she wanted to hex the Hufflepuff herself, but couldn’t just let the Slytherins have him. To his credit, Marcus looked appropriately upset at what had happened.

“I just hit the bludger. There was so much happening -- I didn’t realize...”

It was all fragments to Scorpius, who pushed past students and faculty alike. He knocked Professor Flitwick over and knew he should apologize, but that intuition was superseded by something far more powerful.

Scorpius shoved his way through the last row of people and finally saw him. Albus lay in the sand, his green robes twisted around his body. A gash in his thigh had soaked his beige trousers with blood, and his arm lay at an odd angle, disjointed at the shoulder.

Madam Pomfrey knelt beside Albus and bent over him. Scorpius approached from the other side, cautiously. His heart seemed to slow down, unlike before when it was pounding, and he felt his fingers and ears go numb again.

“Pomona,” said Madam Pomfrey, turning to Professor Sprout who leaned on her cane nearby. “Contact the Potters. Tell Ginny and Harry that he’ll be okay, but that they need to get here.”

Scorpius stared down at Albus and his broken body, feeling eyes on him. His classmates and friends were there, and he had to shove his hands in his pockets as he knelt down beside Albus. It’s hard, Scorpius found, to keep your hands to yourself when someone you love is...

_Someone you love._

“Albus, can you hear me?”

Albus’ breath shuddered, and Scorpius, who had slept in the bed beside Albus’ for years, realized that wasn’t his unconscious face. His eyes were shut tight in a grimace, and his lips were pressed together hard, his jaw tight. Scorpius leaned forward, hovering over him.

“Albus?”

“I can hear you,” Albus groaned through gritted teeth. “Unfortunately.”

“Just hang in there,” Scorpius said quietly. Everyone around them was talking and muttering, and he was sure no one could hear him, but even if they did, what did it matter? Would anyone have expected him not to have run to his best friend’s side? He placed his hand on Albus’ uninjured shoulder. “I can see them coming with the stretcher now. Just hold on, okay?”

Albus’ breathing was labored, but he found the energy to grip Scorpius’ arm tight while biting down on his own lip so hard that it bled. Albus’ fingers dug into Scorpius’ bicep hard enough that he knew he’d have a bruise later, but he didn’t care.

Scorpius stayed with Albus, gripping his shoulder and trying not to focus on the blood and pain until Professors Sinistra and Vector arrived with the stretcher levitated between them.

“They’re going to have to move you now. It’s going to hurt.”

“Really?” Albus grunted. He turned his head a bit to look at Scorpius out of the corner of his eye. “Damn, I was hoping this was going to be fun.”

“Just like his father,” said Professor McGonagall, pulling out her wand. “Move back, Malfoy.”

Scorpius gave Albus’ shoulder one last squeeze before standing up. McGonagall and Vector raised their wands on either side of Albus and, after just a moment, he began to slowly rise off the ground as if cradled by an invisible net.

Albus let out a noise that Scorpius had never heard, and hoped he’d never hear again. It sounded like his own voice when he’d been under the Cruciatus curse - a sound that sometimes cropped up in his less-than-enjoyable dreams - but deeper and more guttural. Albus silenced himself by gritting his teeth again as they laid him on the stretcher, and Scorpius prayed that he would pass out, but he knew Albus was too stubborn for that.

He moved to follow alongside McGonagall as they took Albus to the hospital wing, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“You better stay here, Malfoy,” she said, her voice sympathetic. “Let Madam Pomfrey do her work.”

Scorpius tore his eyes from Albus as Professor Vector and Madam Pomfrey levitated him back towards the castle quickly but cautiously.

Scorpius stayed rooted in his spot as the crowd began to dissipate, with Flint and Pucey stalking Marcus as Professor Flitwick escorted him back to the castle.

Albus was in ten kinds of pain, he knew, and even though Madam Pomfrey was the finest healer he’d met, it wasn’t enough to take the weight off of his chest. Albus was hurt and there was nothing he could do about it.

This wasn’t a problem he could solve with a wave of his wand or some time in the library. It wasn’t something he could fix with a time turner - which he’d used the last time he’d been this devastated.

“Scorpius?”

He jumped at the sound of his name, pulled from his reverie. Ainsley Greengrass, Quidditch robes hanging from her arm, was standing beside him.

Scorpius often forgot that Ainsley was his cousin. Her side of the Greengrass family had held on to the old pureblood ways when Draco and Astoria had divested. Despite being one of the most pureblooded witches in the school, Ainsley had been sorted into the house least known for its lineage discrimination - an irony that never escaped Scorpius.

“Ainsley. Hello.”

Even his voice sounded distant and stunned. Ainsley frowned with concern, and Scorpius had to look away. She looked just like his Aunt Daphne - which was to say, just like his mother.

“Are you okay? I know you and Albus are close.”

“He’s my best friend,” said Scorpius, shuffling his feet as if trying to break them free from whatever was holding him there. “I’m just concerned is all. And I hate the sight of blood. It makes me queasy.”

This was a lie.

“Do you want me to walk with you back to the castle? You look pale. I mean... paler than normal.”

Scorpius thought for a moment and then nodded.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

She smiled and slipped her arm through his, and it struck him for the first time that maybe Ainsley wasn’t like her parents at all. Maybe she was more like his mother, who was kind and open, and who didn’t believe in the superiority of bloodlines, and he was all at once ashamed of himself for not having considered once that his cousin was worth getting to know.

As they walked back toward the castle, Scorpius saw a streak of blood in the sand where Albus had fallen, and though he looked away quickly, the bright red smear was burned into his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. I've been getting some questions about whether or not this fic is going to be an ongoing thing, and wanted to clarify that there are several more chapters planned and they should be published over the next few weeks. 
> 
> Leave me a note if you have time!


	5. Bruises

Scorpius waited as long as he could stand it. Ainsley sat with him on the stairs that led to the hospital wing until she finally had to go downstairs to study and eat. The castle had been quiet for the first few hours after the accident, but after a while, Scorpius started hearing the echoes of students laughing and moving about as they always did on Saturday nights.

The sun was low in the sky when he entered the hospital wing. There was another student - one so small he barely looked like a first year - getting a cut looked at by Madam Pomfrey, but other than that, the wing was empty save for the cluster of people at the end. Harry, Ginny, Lily, James, Rose, and Hugo were all milling around a bed sitting under a window where the red light was filtering in from the sunset.

Scorpius walked towards them, but Madam Pomfrey released the first year and approached him.

“I’m sorry Malfoy,” she said, holding her arm out to stop him. “Family only for right now. He needs to rest.”

“But -”

“No ‘buts',” she said, making a motion to shoo him along, but Scorpius didn’t move.

“It’s okay, Madam Pomfrey,” called Harry from across the room. “Scorpius is family.”

Gratitude rushed through him, and Scorpius looked down the long room at Harry, who had stood from his stool beside Albus’ bed. Madam Pomfrey sighed and stood aside, going back to tend to the younger boy, and Scorpius decided not to question a good thing and strode to Albus’ bed where Harry Potter greeted him.

“Hello, Scorpius.”

“Hello, Mr. Potter.” Scorpius cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You’re practically Albus’ brother.”

“ _I’m_ Albus’ brother,” said James, his voice full of sarcasm. Harry and Ginny’s eldest son was still wearing his gray Gringotts uniform and was standing at the head of his brother’s bed. This was the first time Scorpius had seen James in more than a year, and it struck him how much older he looked out of his Hogwarts uniform.

It wasn’t until Albus spoke that Scorpius realized he was awake.

“I keep telling you all, I’m fine,” said Albus quietly. Scorpius looked past Ginny to see that he was propped up on several pillows with his arm in a sling. There was a brown paste covering a gash above his eye and a nasty, dark bruise over his cheekbone. Madam Pomfrey had put him in shorts, and the wound on his leg was exposed and covered in the same brown paste, which was giving off an earthy, musky smell.

“And I keep telling you that we’ll stay a bit longer,” said Ginny. She turned and smiled at Scorpius, and he marveled at how they all just looked like they fit together. Lily and Rose had the same Weasley nose and red hair, and Rose and Hugo both had their mother’s brown eyes. The shape of Hugo and James’ jaws were similar, and though Hugo’s voice had yet to change, Scorpius imagined that he sounded just like James when he first started at Hogwarts. He watched as James gestured as he talked to Rose, and saw that he had the same hands as Albus - long fingers and small wrists.

Maybe that was why Madam Pomfrey hadn’t wanted to let him in - he was a blemish on a perfectly good portrait of a family that loved one another and belonged together.

“Scorpius, are you okay?” Ginny asked. She was sitting on the edge of Albus’ bed, holding his hand and stroking the back of it with her thumb, just as his mother used to do when she soothed him after a nightmare.

“I just wanted to make sure Albus was doing better,” said Scorpius. He walked closer to Albus’ bed. From underneath the fog of whatever potion Madam Pomfrey had given him, Albus looked up and smiled at Scorpius.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I keep telling everyone that.”

“Well, you scared the hell out of me.” Scorpius folded his arms. “If Madam Hooch hadn’t reacted as quickly as she did -”

“But she did, and I’ll be fine,” Albus croaked. His voice was raspy, and Scorpius could see his breaths were still shallow. Albus cringed and raised a hand to his chest.

“Did you break your ribs?”

“Yes,” said Ginny. “And a dislocated shoulder, the gash on his leg was pretty deep. Madam Pomfrey said his cheekbone is likely cracked too.”

“Not the cheekbones,” said James, aghast. Ginny shot him a glare.

“It’s going to be a few days before he’s better,” said Lily. “She said there’s only so many potions and so much magic a body can handle. The body can only heal so fast.”

“I’m fine.”

“All the same,” said Harry, “Listen to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll have you right in no time, but you’ll have to take it easy for a few days.”

“Oh, he’ll be back in class by Tuesday,” said Pomfrey approaching, “but he’ll still be moving slow. You’re taking a week off of any physical exertion, and that means no Quidditch practice.”

“Understood,” said Albus, his eyelids visibly heavy. For a moment, he tried to stay awake, looking from his mother to his father, and then to Scorpius, but he gave up, letting his head drop back onto the pillow.

“He’s going to have to sleep this off,” said Harry. “By morning, the worst of it will be done, healing his bones and all.”

Ginny stood up slowly, careful not to disturb Albus, and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead as she smoothed down his hair. Scorpius watched as Harry did the same, standing back, his hands in his pockets. He watched as the Potters said goodbye to their sleeping son, all at once glad that Albus was loved - that he had a family that would rush to his side when he was hurt - and sad that he no longer had a mother to care for him and no siblings to speak of.

Lily left first, telling her parents that it was time for dinner. She kissed her parents and brother goodbye and took off through the doors.

“She’s always on the go, isn’t she?” asked Harry.

“I see her around sometimes,” said Scorpius. “She’s always with her friends. She seems very popular.”

“She’s a good girl,” said Ginny, taking Harry’s hand.

“You’ll keep an eye on him, won’t you?”

Scorpius frowned at Harry. “What do you mean?”

“Just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself before he’s done healing. I always made it worse before I was completely better.”

“Like that time you had to regrow all the bones in your arm?” Ginny smiled up at her husband.

“That was probably the worst,” said Harry. A crease formed between Harry’s eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. “Just... take care of him?”

There was a weight to Harry’s words and the way he was looking at Scorpius.

“Of course, Mr. Potter.”

Harry smiled almost sadly and nodded. “Then we’ll see you around.”

“It was good to see you, Scorpius,” Ginny said.

James gave him a nod as all three of the Potters left. Scorpius watched as they disappeared through the great double doors, and stared long after they were gone.

 

* * *

 

After eating a hasty dinner, Scorpius crept back into the infirmary with two plates laden with Albus’ favorites - tarts, fudge, and cake slices, with a side of actual food. Madam Pomfrey, he knew, was still downstairs with the rest of the faculty, enjoying a leisurely Saturday evening meal knowing her only patient was asleep and healing.

For a second, as he passed the medicine cabinets, he wondered if there was something in them to make his eyes and head hurt less. He’d tried to go back to the dorm and take a brief nap to no avail. Every time he closed his eyes he saw a streak of green falling through the air and heard Maggie screaming Albus’ name.

Scorpius set the food down on the table beside Albus and cautiously settled himself on the edge of the bed near Albus’ uninjured arm. The bruise on his face had blossomed into a dark purple monstrosity with green edges that stretched from his cheekbone all the way down to his jaw and had spread into a black eye. The gash, however, seemed to have closed even more over the last couple of hours.

His leg was even nastier up close, and Scorpius tried not to look at it. Instead, he gently pushed back the edge of Albus’ robe to get a better look at his chest and found that it too was covered in a massive bruise.

“Trying to undress me?”

Scorpius jumped when Albus spoke, which was clearly Albus’ intent. He had a sleepy sort of smirk on his face as he blinked away the sleep and fog from the potions.

“I’m not sure it would get me very far right now,” said Scorpius, tucking the blanket around Albus, making sure his leg remained exposed as Madam Pomfrey had left it. “You can’t exactly move.”

Albus smiled and moved, adjusting himself to look at Scorpius. “Don’t underestimate me.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Scorpius, mocking. He grabbed a tart from the plate and held it up. “I brought you food.”

“That’s not food. That’s dessert.”

“Yes, well, sweets will always help you make friends.”

Albus smiled and tried to use his good arm to sit up, but it was no use. The fire in his ribs reignited and his shoulder stung until he gave up and fell back onto the pillows.

“This isn’t working.”

“Hold on.”

Scorpius went from bed to bed, gathering pillows until he had enough, Albus’ eyes following him all the way. He returned with a small pile, which he laid on the adjacent bed.

“I’m going to prop you up,” said Scorpius, holding up one of the pillows. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, let’s try it.”

Scorpius bit his lip. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Albus, but he needed to eat if he was going to heal. Scorpius leaned over him and helped Albus sit up until he was leaning into his shoulder. He wordlessly summoned pillow after pillow until Albus could sit comfortably without straining. Slowly, Scorpius lowered him back, keeping his hand behind Albus’ neck until he was comfortable.

“You’re a wonder, you know that?”

“What?”

Albus looked up at him, somewhat content now that he was at least half upright.

“There are grown wizards that can’t do wandless magic. Good wizards. And I think you just summoned those pillows without even considering it.”

Scorpius looked down. His wand was still in his pocket.

“I... guess I did.”

“And even breathing hurts, and you managed to do that without even making me flinch.”

“I was as careful as I could be,” said Scorpius, looking down at his hands. There was a tension in his chest that he couldn’t shake off, no matter how much he tried to control his breathing and calm himself. “The sooner you’re better, the sooner you’re out of here, and the sooner I can stop imagining you falling over and over again.”

“Hey.” Albus tugged at Scorpius’ shirt. His senses were starting to come back now that he was upright, and memories of lying in the sand on the pitch were starting to flood back. They were flashes of white hot pain and loud voices, and the deep, metallic thud of his body hitting the goal post. But mostly, Albus was remembering Scorpius’ face appearing above him, and the expression he’d worn. It was a contorted sort of pain he hadn’t seen for a couple of years and had hoped he’d never see again.

Scorpius looked up at him. He couldn’t stop biting his lip, and it was very difficult for Albus to stay still when he was doing that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Albus, using his good arm to reach out and take Scorpius’ hand into his own. “I promised.”

Scorpius had to wipe the dampness from beneath his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if Madam Hooch had caught you in time. That bludger hit you so hard, and you fell so fast.”

“I know.” Albus squeezed Scorpius’ hand the best he could. “It must have looked awful.”

“And I didn’t even know what to do. And I know you’re in pain and that this is something that happened to you and I just happened to see it, and so I shouldn’t complain, but -”

“Calm down, Scorpius,” said Albus. “Take a deep breath.”

“And here you are trying to calm  _me_  down.” Albus knew what was happening, and he was powerless to stop it as Scorpius started to panic, just a bit. “ _You almost died._ ”

“Okay, first of all, you sound like Aunt Hermione right now,” said Albus. “Secondly, I’m fine.”

“But you almost weren’t and it was terrifying. I think that took at least two years off of my life. My heart is weaker now.”

Albus knew Scorpius sometimes had a biting sarcasm when he was stressed and didn’t like it when he said things like this. They didn’t talk much about Astoria, but Albus harbored a quiet fear that Scorpius’ constitution would take more after his mother than his father.

“And then I finally got down to the pitch, and there you were. You were bleeding and your arm was going the wrong way and you were having trouble breathing, and the most horrifying part was that you were awake. You were conscious and there was nothing I could do to help.”

“ _I know_ ,” said Albus, raising his voice. He hated it when Scorpius got like this - over tests, fights with friends, the prospect of being cooped up in the Malfoy manor all summer, so he pushed himself further up on the pillows to sit up, gritting his teeth, until he was eye-to-eye with Scorpius.

“Oh, don’t. Please,” quavered Scorpius.

“Shut up,” snapped Albus, gritting through the pain. “Listen. I almost died. That much is true. I got lucky. And do you know what I was thinking about while I was lying on the ground?”

“No,” muttered Scorpius, sheepish.

“I was wondering where you were. I didn’t know how I was alive, and all I could think about was whether or not you saw what happened or if you were on your way,” said Albus, gritting his teeth against the pain and frustration that that had built up inside him - but mostly the sharpness in his cracked ribs.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius whispered. His voice was gone. “I got there as fast as I could.”

“That’s not the point,” sighed Albus. He was making things worse. He always made things worse. “I just need you to know that I worry about you. I was scared, Scorpius.”

Scorpius shifted closer to him on the bed, holding back tears, and rested his forehead against Albus’ as gently as he could. He could smell the medicine on his skin and could hear the rasp in his breath.

“I was scared, and all I wanted was you, and I was worried about you.” Albus’ voice was soft.

“Well, isn’t that what we do best?” Scorpius raised his hand to rest on Albus’ neck. “We worry about each other.”

Albus swallowed back what could have turned into tears if he’d thought his chest could have taken it. As it was, he wasn’t sure his heart and ribs could take much more abuse. He just breathed deeply, feeling Scorpius near him.

“What happened there?”

Scorpius looked at where Albus nodded. Beneath the sleeve of Scorpius’ t-shirt, he could see a hand-shaped bruise coming in - not nearly as intense as anything on Albus’ body, but still visible.

“Oh, that’s nothing.”

Albus raised his hand to Scorpius’ arm and gently aligned his hand to the bruises.

“Oh, damn.”

“It’s okay,” insisted Scorpius. “Really. I mean you had to hold onto something.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” said Albus.

Scorpius smiled and helped Albus lean back into the pillows again.

“It’s fine. Just stay lying back, okay?”

Scorpius grabbed the tart again and placed it in Albus’ good hand and watched quietly as he ate, handing him a sandwich, and then some fudge. He watched as Albus’ eyelids got heavy again, and helped him drink some water before he began to drift off.

“I’m glad your family got here so quickly today,” said Scorpius as Albus began to relax. He stroked Albus’ hair back idly, as it always seemed to soothe him. “Your father was quite nice.”

“He and I are getting along better,” said Albus. “And he does like you.”

“I’m just glad to see that things are better there,” said Scorpius, tucking the blankets around Albus gently, avoiding his bruises. He wanted Albus to fall asleep comfortably and gently, not focused on the pain.

“I just want you to be happy,” Scorpius continued. “And you’re going to get better, and we’re going to go to Hogsmeade next weekend.”

“It’s a Hogsmeade weekend?” Albus was drifting off, and Scorpius smiled.

“Yeah. I’ll take you out for a butterbeer. And then we’ll go to Honeydukes and get some of that toffee you like so much.”

Albus stopped responding, but Scorpius stayed there, on the edge of the bed, talking to him quietly until Madam Pomfrey returned and kicked him out.

 

* * *

 

Rolanda Hooch arrived back in her quarters after what had been a very long day. Her referee robes were already with the House Elves being cleaned of Albus Potter’s blood, and her head pounded from the stress of the day.

In all year years of refereeing at Hogwarts, students had only fallen a handful of times, and only once had she not been the one to catch them - and that was when Dumbledore had rescued Harry Potter from the Dementors. This one was too close for her, and she was wondering if it was time to consider retirement before she became too slow to react.

“These Potters will be the death of us all,” she muttered, pulling off her boots. It wasn’t until she stood up that she noticed something off in her quarters. Something different.

Atop her kitchenette counter was a vase of roses - white roses, her favorite. Hooch frowned and walked over to them, freeing the card that was tucked beneath the base and opening it, noting immediately that it was unsigned.

_Madam Hooch,_

_For saving Albus Potter._

Hooch knew her memory wasn’t what it used to be, but she was fairly certain this was the handwriting of Draco Malfoy.

 


	6. Frankenstein

Scorpius came into the hospital wing the next morning with a plate full of pancakes and bacon for Albus. Though he’d turned in relatively early, he was exhausted and had a burning in the back of his eyes that wouldn’t go away. When he’d dressed, he’d made a point of finding a shirt with long sleeves to cover up the bruise on his arm, which had become more visible overnight.

When he entered, he saw Albus on his feet, and his heart leaped. He was shirtless and still in a sling, but he’d changed into a pair of the heinous standard-issue Hogwarts joggers. The deep violet bruise was larger than he’d anticipated, stretching from under his previously dislocated shoulder down to his hip and across his chest. It was painful just to look at.

“I’m fine, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard that from a Potter? Or a Weasley?”

“I imagine a lot,” he said. “The only graceful one of us is Victoire.” He had his wand in his hand and was making one of the old hospital robes levitate in front of him.

“I think you should stay here for at least a few more hours,” said Madam Pomfrey, her hands on her hips.

“I’m going straight to my dorm. And look!” Albus’ expression brightened. “Scorpius is here to take care of me.”

Albus slid his good arm into the hovering robe with a grimace. All the color was gone from his face.

“Will you please tell your friend to get back in bed?” Madam Pomfrey huffed at Scorpius.

 _Well, I would like to tell him to get into bed,_  thought Scorpius.  _Just not that one._

From under the soreness and exhaustion, Albus gave him that wicked, mischievous grin that always got him in trouble, and Scorpius knew he’d had a similar thought.

“I’ve long since stopped trying to get Albus to listen to reason,” said Scorpius, setting the plate on a nearby table. He helped Albus into the robe and adjusted it over his sling.

“Am I decent enough to walk back to the common room?” asked Albus.

“Sure, if you’re certain you want to leave,” said Scorpius.

“I definitely want to leave,” muttered Albus.

“See?” Scorpius turned to Madam Pomfrey. “He doesn’t listen.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, clearly distressed that Albus was leaving against her advice. “Rest, Albus. Stay seated and lying down as much as possible, and take it easy.”

“I’m not sure I have much of a choice in the matter,” said Albus, standing upright and setting his jaw against the pain. Scorpius saw a twitch in his neck that told him Albus was just barely staying up. He grabbed the breakfast plate and looked to Albus.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“I want nothing to do with this.” Madam Pomfrey sighed and walked away. “And come back in two days for another round of potions.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Albus gave Scorpius a weary smile. Scorpius hadn’t noticed how excellent Albus’ posture had been until it was compromised. To Scorpius, Albus had always looked strong and lithe - tall and broad-shouldered - invincible and brave in the face of danger, whether it be extreme or mundane. But now he was bruised and battered, and that made Scorpius feel responsible for him.

He’d always been protective of Albus, but there was a new warmth and fierceness to it that he hadn’t expected.

“Come on,” said Scorpius with his hand on Albus’ shoulder. “Let’s get you to the dorm.”

 

* * *

 

It took three times as long to get to the Slytherin dorms as usual. Scorpius eventually discarded Albus’ breakfast to free his hands so he could help Albus walk, and by the time they reached the Slytherin common room, Albus was leaning on him heavily and sweating from exertion.

“You weren’t ready to leave,” said Scorpius. “You must have known that.”

“It’s so depressing in there,” said Albus. “All the stories my dad told me about his time here ended in that infirmary. I can’t stand it.”

“Don’t think you’re going far at all today,” said Scorpius, helping him through the portal. “I’m taking you straight to your bed.”

“I’d rather you -”

“Stop.”

When they entered the common room, Albus was swarmed by other students. Flint and Pucey were the first to reach him, wide-eyed.

“Al! Are you okay?”

Albus waved a dismissive hand.

“I’m fine. I’ll be right as rain in a couple days. Did we forfeit the match?”

“Actually, no,” said Flint smugly. “Since Hufflepuff has now had a player ejected for the season on a penalty, we get a win.”

“I don’t think Marcus meant for that to happen,” said Albus slowly. He moved past the group and fell into his favorite armchair with a deep grimace. His ribs ached, and his head was pounding, but it was worth it to be back in the dungeon where he felt at home.

“I don’t think he did either,” said Flint, “but the fact of the matter is that he nearly killed you and he can’t be on the pitch anymore.”

“Accidents happen,” said Albus. “I don’t think he should be barred from playing.”

“Albus.” Scorpius sat on the table in front of Albus’ armchair. “Whether or not he meant to hit you like that is irrelevant. If he doesn’t have the skills to judge whether or not to hit someone like that at such close range, then he can’t be on the pitch.”

“Malfoy is right,” said Maggie from her spot on a couch. “But I saw Marcus this morning, and he looked awful.”

“I’m going to have to talk to him,” said Albus. He placed his hand on the arm of the chair as if to rise, but Pucey put his massive hand on Albus’ good shoulder and held him down.

“No, mate. You’re staying right here,” Pucey said.

“We’ll probably run into him later anyway,” said Farley from across the room. “We’ll tell him you’re okay. You can talk to him when you’re better.”

“Why are you even here?” asked Flint. “Shouldn’t you still be in the hospital wi -”

“I’ve already tried,” deadpanned Scorpius.

“I just hate it down there, okay? Besides, if I’m going to sleep all day, I’d much rather be in my own bed.”

“And that’s exactly where you’re going right now,” said Maggie, rising from her seat. She approached Albus and placed her hand under his good arm. “Come on.”

Albus groaned as Scorpius and Maggie helped him stand, and his balance faltered once he was on his feet.

“Whoa, there,” said Maggie. “That leg is giving you trouble?”

“Everything’s giving me trouble,” groaned Albus.

“Just get some sleep, mate,” said Farley. “We’re all just going to be in the library and out here studying. You’re not missing anything.”

“I’m going to stay with him,” said Scorpius. “I just have some History of Magic homework left anyway.”

“Let us know if you need anything,” said Flint. “Or if he decides to do something stupid like go for a run.”

“Sod off,” said Albus.

Scorpius and Maggie walked Albus to the dorm room slowly, each step deliberate and careful, just as Scorpius had taken him through the castle. When they got him into the room, Albus fell onto his bed and sighed in relief.

“This is so much better,” he said.

Scorpius was about to thank Maggie for her help when he realized she’d backtracked and had closed the door behind him.

“So when are you two going to stop sneaking about?” Maggie placed her hands on her hips, looking from Scorpius to Albus and back again.

Scorpius’ heart skipped a beat, and he felt the blood drain from his face.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“How stupid do you think I am?” Maggie asked. Scorpius and Albus looked to one another. Both knew better than to answer the question.

Maggie sighed and folded her arms. “Also, I saw you two the other night in the common room when I came back down to grab my robes. There were some notes in them I needed, and I saw you snogging.”

“Christ,” said Albus, rubbing his face. “Listen, I -”

“No, let me finish,” said Maggie. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re sneaking about, but you shouldn’t. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not about that,” said Scorpius. The color had come back to his face all at once, and he could feel himself beginning to blush feverishly. “It’s not at all. It’s just...”

“It’s not anyone’s business,” said Albus defensively. “That’s all. Besides, we share a dorm and wouldn’t that be awkward for everyone else?”

“I doubt it,” said Maggie. “You’ve been inseparable since the day we got here. Unless you decide to be particularly lewd -”

“Please stop,” said Scorpius with his face in his hands.

“-then it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Maggie, please,” pleaded Albus. “We’re not hiding. It’s not that. We’re just not really...”

“Ready. And it’s not Albus, it’s me. I’m not ready to deal with it.”

“Deal with what?” Maggie asked as if it were the most preposterous thing she could imagine.

“Telling people I’m gay. That we’re together,” said Scorpius.

“It’s not like it used to be,” said Maggie. “No one is going to ostracize you. Don’t you remember Dawlish and Robins? Everyone loved them, and no one said a bad word about their relationship.”

“We’ll get around to it,” said Albus. “Just not right now. Maggie, please.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” she said. “Don’t worry about that. It felt like lying not telling you that I knew, and I just... I don’t know. I wanted you to know that you’ve got friends, and it doesn’t need to be something you hide.”

“Thank you,” said Scorpius. “And I, for one, appreciate that. And we’ll get there. But for now, let’s just leave everyone else out of it.”

Maggie nodded slowly. “I understand. I’m just... well, I’m here if you need me,” she said before moving to the door. “And can one of you tell Farley to lay off the cologne? He’s a good looking bloke, but I can’t snog him if he smells like he bathed in the stuff.”

Albus chuckled, then winced and immediately regretted it.

“Will do.”

Maggie gave them one last compassionate smile before slipping out the door and closing it behind herself. Scorpius exhaled long and slow, sitting on the edge of his bed facing Albus and placed his face in his hands once more.

“She won’t say anything, Scorp,” said Albus, half lying on his bed.

“It’s not that,” said Scorpius.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t describe it,” said Scorpius. “I’m just tense. But that doesn’t matter. You need to rest. We need to get you better.”

Albus nodded and slowly slid back onto his bed, sighing with relief as he relaxed.

“So much better than the hospital cot.”

“I’m sure,” said Scorpius. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Albus smiled at him sleepily. The green glow from the lake windows made him look even paler, so Scorpius used his wand to light the lanterns around the beds to make the room seem warmer.

“Just stay with me for a while? I know you probably have things to do,” said Albus. Scorpius shook his head.

“No. No, I want to stay here.”

Scorpius grabbed his book from the desk and pulled his chair over to the side of Albus’ bed, where he settled in. Albus held out his hand and Scorpius took it, and held onto it until long after Albus fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Monday came with a vengeance, and Scorpius wasn’t ready. After spending all day doing homework and looking after Albus, he was still exhausted, and by Wednesday, he was barely upright. His only solace was that there was a three-hour break in his day before dinner that would be perfect for a nap.

Lunch had left him sleepier than normal, and after enduring a particularly dull Transfiguration lesson, Scorpius dragged himself into the dungeons and into his dorm. Albus was sitting at his desk, his right arm still in a sling with his Care of Magical Creatures book open on his desk, and Freya in his lap.

“I’m glad to see you two are warming up to each other,” said Scorpius, throwing his bag onto the trunk at the foot of his bed. Freya stretched languidly across Albus’ lap and meowed once before closing her eyes again.

“She’s actually pretty nice sometimes,” said Albus, stroking her head. “Other times she hates me. How was class?”

“Dull. I’ve made a list of things you need to read to keep up. It’s not long - you can do it between classes tomorrow.”

“You’re so conscientious.”

“I try.”

Scorpius pulled back the hangings around his bed, prepared to fall onto the mattress, only to find a wrapped package lying on his pillow.

“What’s this?”

“I have no idea,” said Albus. “Came in the post earlier. Pucey brought it up.”

Scorpius grabbed the package and ripped off the wrapping carefully, unsure of what could be inside. He hadn’t ordered anything that he could remember...

“Oh, wow.”

Inside was a gilded, leather-bound copy of Mary Shelley’s  _Frankenstein,_ one of his favorite books. Scorpius ran his fingers over the title and the spine, then opened the book and breathed in the musty, comforting smell of well-worn paper and old ink.

“Who sent it?”

Scorpius looked to Albus, who had risen and was looking very uncertain.

“I know it’s your favorite,” he said. “I wanted to say thank you. For taking care of me. You didn’t have to. At least not the way you did.”

“Albus...” Scorpius was touched. He’d only ever exchanged gifts with his family at holidays and birthdays, and for the last few years, he and Albus had only given each other small, fun gifts at Christmas, and sometimes on their birthdays. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he said. “But I know it’s a book you really love, and I thought you’d like a special copy of it that’s yours, not a part of the Malfoy library.”

Scorpius didn’t have much that  _wasn’t_ a part of the Malfoy estate. Not that he minded, but when he looked down at the book in his hands, he was immensely grateful.

“Thank you.”

Albus smiled sheepishly, adjusting his sling. “I’ve never read it. Maybe we can read it together?”

Scorpius set the book down and embraced Albus carefully. “I’d like that very much.”

 

* * *

 

 

Halloween came and went, and took Autumn with it early. By the middle of November, there was a cold bite to the air - something both Scorpius and Albus looked forward to all year.

“I love it,” said Scorpius as they reached the top of the Astronomy tower one evening before sunset. “This is the best time of year.”

Albus smiled. He loved seeing Scorpius happy and had been doing everything he could lately to make him laugh. Granted, it was difficult when they were around others, but he had managed, and he had never felt closer to anyone.

“Either way, we need the blanket,” he said. They settled in at the base of the largest column that overlooked the grounds and mountains, and wrapped the edges around their shoulders, insulating themselves against the cold. Scorpius pulled out a copy of ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray,’ and started thumbing through the pages.

“Where were we?”

Albus wrapped the blanket tighter around Scorpius’ shoulders, taking the opportunity to hold him close against the cold.

“Sibyl had just committed suicide,” he said.

“Ah, yes,” said Scorpius, adjusting his glasses. “It’s my turn?”

“Yes, thankfully,” said Albus. He hated reading aloud.

Albus watched as Scorpius’ searched for their place, looking at the features of his face. It was true that he looked a great deal like his father - they both carried that burden - but where Draco Malfoy’s features were sharp and angular, Scorpius’ had been softened by his mother’s influence. His nose was straight without being pointed, and his eyes were big and almond-shaped, giving him a constant look of curiosity. As his hair grew longer, it fell smooth around his ears and his neck, giving Albus the constant impulse to play with it.

Albus sank against the pillar, contented as he looked out over the treetops and hills, just listening to Scorpius’ voice as he began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All,
> 
> Sorry for the delay in getting this out! If you enjoy this (or hate it, whatever), make sure you leave a comment – even if it’s just to say hi. Hearing from you guys really brightens my day. And let me know where you’re reading from! 
> 
> -SP


	7. Fine

By the time November was coming to a close, Albus was already looking forward to Christmas. His grades were solid, his family was in good health, and he had Scorpius, whether everyone knew it or not. They’d fallen into a pattern of cramming everything they could into their weekdays so weekends were free to spend time together - a good bit of it up in the Astronomy tower where they read. Every time he wrapped the blanket tighter around Scorpius’ shoulders and held him closer, he let himself hope that maybe, someday soon, they’d be able to stop hiding.

Albus settled into his desk in Charms on Monday morning after breakfast, straightening his tie as he leaned back. Scorpius was already there with his books open and his homework ready.

“I missed you at breakfast today,” Albus muttered. He handed Scorpius the mug of coffee he’d carried from the Great Hall.

“Sorry. I had to finish up the assignment,” said Scorpius, taking a grateful sip. He didn’t want to tell Albus that it was too hot - he was still trying to perfect the warming spell. “I was in the library at 7 o’clock.”

“You didn’t have your homework done?”

“Well, I was going to finish it up yesterday, but I got a bit distracted,” said Scorpius, trying to force his face into an expression of contention and failing miserably. Albus grinned. He knew exactly what had distracted Scorpius.

Professor Flitwick took his place at the podium before Albus could comment and cleared his throat.

“Morning announcements,” said Flitwick, waving a piece of paper until everyone quieted. Scorpius stretched out in his desk, and Albus took note for the millionth time of just how long his legs had gotten.

“First - Dueling Club practice is canceled for this week and will resume next Tuesday. Both of the remaining Quidditch matches this term will take place at noon instead of one o’clock. And last, there will be a Holiday dance held on the last day of the term before everyone goes home.”

Each and every girl in the classroom turned to a friend and began whispering. Scorpius watched across the room as Maggie and her Ravenclaw friend Anna giggled behind their hands and nodded to each other.

Albus met Maggie’s eyes across the room, and she pursed her lips as if to say “well, now what?”

Scorpius snuck a glance at Albus, who was now tapping his quill idly on his desk, leaving marks on the surface. Albus met Scorpius’ gaze out of the corner of his eye and offered the best smile he could, which wasn’t much.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a long day for both Albus and Scorpius. By the time Albus got back from Quidditch practice, Scorpius’ eyes were starting to get tired, and he was considering going to bed. He’d been waiting for a half an hour, and the rest of the team had long since returned when Albus and Flint tumbled through the portal.

“I’m going up,” said Flint. “You guys wore me the hell out.”

“Take the first shower,” said Albus. He tossed his shoes by the door and pulled off his robes. “I’ll be there in a few.”

A few other students were milling about, talking to one another, but Albus saw Scorpius had taken over a table in the corner, and he fell into the opposite chair.

“How was the rest of your day?”

“It was fine,” said Scorpius. “Got caught up on everything. Went for a walk.”

“A walk? You only do that when you’re unhappy.”

“Nah,” said Scorpius. “I just needed to stretch my legs.”

Albus nodded and ran his socked foot up Scorpius’ leg under the table. Scorpius jumped a bit, but didn’t move away. Albus leaned forward and said something in a quiet voice that he’d never had the opportunity to say, and he’d mulled it over long and hard during practice.

“Go to the dance with me.”

“Albus -”

“Don’t. Please. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I know. I’m trying to figure things out.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we figured things out together?” Albus pled, leaning into the table. Scorpius looked pained as he tried to avoid eye contact.

“Well, yes -”

“So why?”

“Because I’m not ready to deal with my father.”

“Are you not ready to deal with your father or are you not ready to deal with everyone else?”

Scorpius looked injured, but Albus needed to get to the bottom of this. Something about not doing something as simple as going to a dance with someone he cared so much about cut him to the core. All he’d ever wanted was to be normal, and what was more normal than going to a dance at sixteen with someone you had fallen for?

“Or is it something else?”

“Like what, Albus?” Scorpius took off his glasses, weary, and rubbed his eyes. The words came out of Albus’ mouth before he could stop them.

“Like you don’t want to be different - at least not any more than you already are. Or maybe you’re not sure that this is what you want.”

Scorpius leaned over the table, folding his hands. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked paler than normal.

“Don’t say that.”

“Scorpius, I just want to go to a dance with you.”

“We can’t. I need more time. I need to figure out how to tell my father and at least soften it somehow because I have no idea how he’ll react.”

“Will how he reacts change whether or not we’re together?”

“No, of course not.”

“I’m not looking forward to dealing with my parents either, but that’s more because you’re a Malfoy. But I can take it because this is what I want.”

Albus saw Scorpius’s eyes dart around the room, just a bit before falling back on his face, and he knew Scorpius was checking to see that no one was paying attention to them. Albus had never been this frustrated with anyone, let alone Scorpius. Heat rose in his cheeks.

“You know what? Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

  
Albus stood up quickly, his chair scraping the ground loudly as he did so. A few second years looked up from their game of Gobstones at him.

“Al, don’t -”

“No, it’s fine. I’m going to bed.”

Albus swept down the hallway as fast as his tired legs would carry him and found only that he had to sit outside the bathroom and wait for Flint to finish his shower anyway.

 

* * *

  

The next morning, Scorpius risked being late to class waiting for Albus to wake up. Everyone else had gone, and so he sat on his bed quietly, checking his watch. He didn’t want to be the one to wake him, but he was itching to see if things were somehow better in the morning. He tapped his heel on the ground over and over again, waiting. He checked his watch again. The alarm would go off in three, two, one...

_Ring._

Albus stirred, pulling off the Selective Hearing Earmuffs from his Uncle Ron. He used them whenever he had a late class and wanted to sleep through everyone else’s stirring.

Scorpius grabbed the clock and turned it off well before Albus could get to it.

“Listen, can we talk?” Scorpius asked, settling himself on the side of Albus’ bed. It was warm where he had slept, and he fought the urge to crawl under the blanket himself. Albus, confused, rubbed his eyes and tried to orient himself.

“Huh?”

“I’m just trying to avoid upsetting my dad. He and I... we’re finally in a good place. I want to make sure that’s solid before I go telling him I’m dating Harry Potter’s son. Does that make sense.”

“What day is it?” Albus sneered against the lake light as if it had assaulted him and grabbed the clock, trying to look at it through the fog of sleep and screwing his face up against the blurriness he was experiencing. “Am I late?”

“No. Your first class isn’t until 9 o’clock. It’s potions. You have three more problems to solve on your homework.”

“Good to know.”

“But do you get it? Al, you of all people should know what it’s like to want to keep things on good terms with your father,” said Scorpius.

“I’m not mad at you, Scorp. I’m just frustrated,” said Albus, running his hand through his hair. It fell right back in his face. He ran his hand over his chin, trying to decide if he had to shave.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me. I’m just asking for some time.”

“I know!” Albus said, raising his voice. He took a deep breath to calm himself when Scorpius flinched. “I’m sorry. I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to like the situation.”

“It doesn’t mean I do either,” said Scorpius.

“Good, then we agree.”

They fell into silence and Scorpius twisted the strap of his bag around his fingers, taking a glance at his watch. He didn’t want to leave until Albus was happy with him again - until he was laughing and holding his hand and sneaking kisses in the seconds they had the dorm to themselves.

“I’m sorry I ambushed you when you woke up,” said Scorpius, looking down at his hands.

Albus reached out and ran his hand over Scorpius’ back. “There are worse ways to wake up.”

Scorpius saw Albus smirk out of the corner of his eye and couldn’t help smiling himself.

“You have to go, don’t you?”

“Runes,” Scorpius confirmed.

Albus nodded and crawled forward on his bed, giving Scorpius a quick kiss.

“Go on. Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” said Albus. “Go, you’re going to be late.”

Scorpius nodded and grabbed his things before rushing out the door. Albus fell back into his pillow and gave a mighty sigh to the empty room.

 _Frustrated_  didn’t cover it.

 

* * *

 

It was Albus’ turn to clean out the bat cage after Care of Magical creatures later that week, which despite being rather messy was something he enjoyed. The bats were friendly and languid during the day, roused only when he pulled back the shade and exposed them to the sunlight. Three of them hung off his fingers while he used his free hand to clean the cage with a rag. He didn’t like using magic so close to small animals.

“Hey, Albus?”

Albus glanced behind him and saw Maggie approaching. She had her arms folded into her robes and her scarf was wrapped high around her neck, trapping her long brown hair against her neck.

“Grab my cloak if you need it,” Albus said, nodding to the pile of his things on a nearby tree stump. Maggie gratefully did so and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she said. “How are the bats today?”

“Lazy, as usual,” said Albus. “Maybe that’s why I identify with them. I’d rather be asleep too.”

“True,” Maggie laughed. Albus tossed the rag into a nearby bucket and carefully placed the bats back on the rungs that stretched across the cage. The last one didn’t want to leave his finger - he was the runt of the group, and Albus was quite fond of him, so he covered the cage and cupped the little bat against his chest for warmth.

“I actually had a question for you,” Maggie said slowly, uncertain.

“I might not have an answer, but ask anyway,” said Albus, leaning against a feed barrel.

“Are you going to the dance with Scorpius?”

“No,” replied Albus.

Maggie sighed. “Okay, so I obviously don’t support that -”

“You’ve made your opinion clear.”

“My friend - you know Anna, right?”

“A bit. We were partners in transfiguration once.” Albus stroked the small bat with the back of his fingers, feeling it move closer to his chest, and he smiled. Care of Magical Creatures was the highlight of his academic week.

“Well, she’s being harassed by several boys in Ravenclaw and in Slytherin. Since I’m going with Flint -”

“I thought you liked Farley.”

“Well, actually, no. I mean, Farley is great but that kind of fizzled. Duncan and I have been seeing each other for a few weeks now, and he asked me to the dance last night.”

Albus had called Flint by his surname for so long that he never even thought of his first name anymore.

“Well, that explains why Flint and Farley have been communicating in grunts recently.”

“Have they? Oh, that’s awful,” said Maggie, wringing her hands. “Well, anyway. I’m going with Duncan and since Anna wants to go to the dance but  _doesn’t_  want to go with anyone who’s going to be an ass, I was hoping the four of us could to together and you could take her.”

Albus raised an eyebrow.

“Is this because you... know what you know?”

“What? No!” Maggie squeaked, taken aback. “I just know that you’re not going with who you want to go with, and my friend really needs a date. She won’t go without one, and I know you won’t try to snog her against her will.”

“Because you know what you know.”

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Scorpius show any interest in a girl since that time he asked Granger-Weasley out,” said Maggie with an eye roll. “Which was doomed to start and I don’t really think his heart was in it.”

“You know about that?”

“Anyone that was in a fifty-meter radius knows about that. Rose isn’t exactly a quiet person,” said Maggie. Albus cringed on Scorpius’ behalf. “What I’m saying is that I don’t know if you’re gay or bisexual or straight leaning-a-little, but I don’t care. I know you won’t be a jerk to her, and she needs that after some... stuff.”

“I don’t know what I am,” admitted Albus. He tried not to think about it or to classify anything he felt, which was getting harder and harder by the day.

“I’m sorry,” said Maggie, and for a moment Albus actually felt like someone appreciated the struggle he’d been enduring. “That’s got to be tough.”

“I guess it is.” Albus looked down at the bat and stroked its wings with his finger. “I’ll go with you guys.”

“Bring Scorpius, obviously. We’ll find  _someone_  for him to dance with.”

Albus smiled. “I’ll talk to him about it. Take my cloak, ok?”

Maggie clapped him on the shoulder like she did after every Quidditch match. “Thanks.”

Albus watched as she walked against the wind, back to the castle.

 

* * *

 

 

Rain was coming down in sheets as Scorpius flipped through the pages of his textbooks. He was bogged down with too much homework and too little sleep, and several of his assignments were due before the week’s end. Potions, runes, transfiguration - it was all running together in his head as he tried to scratch out the last few sentences of an essay.

“Hey.”

Albus sat down in front of him, windswept and with damp hair. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold.

Scorpius glanced up from his work and forced a small smile. “Hey. You look cold.”

“Yeah, it’s getting rough out there,” said Albus. “I almost didn’t find you back here.”

“I needed some quiet to get some work done,” said Scorpius. He sighed and cleaned his glasses on the edge of his shirt. “Maggie told me to tell you your cloak is on the hook in the Common Room. Why did she have it?”

“We were outside and she looked like she was freezing. You look stressed. Is there anything I can do?”

Scorpius shrugged, putting his glasses back on and blinking a few times. “Just trying to get through all this homework.”

“Well, I think I’ve got something that  _might_  cheer you up,” whispered Albus eagerly, leaning into the table. “I talked to Maggie, and her friend, Anna really needs a date to the dance. I figured since we can’t go together, I could go with Anna and you could come with all of us and we'd at least get to spend some time together – what’s that face for?”

Scorpius stared across the table at Albus, his eyes blank and his jaw slack.

“I - I thought it was a good plan,” Albus stammered. “We both go to the dance. I help a friend out. Apparently, some of the guys have been harassing Anna and she’s actually really nice -”

“So, let me make sure I understand you,” said Scorpius, holding up his hand. Albus knew he was in trouble. “You want to go to the dance with Anna and Maggie and whichever of our roommates Maggie is into right now -”

“It’s Flint.”

“Whatever,” Scorpius dismissively. “And then you want me to tag along as some fifth wheel?”

“Well, when you put it that way...”

“Yes,” said Scorpius, accusing. “Yes, I am putting it that way.”

“That’s not what I meant,” defended Albus. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Is it? Because you’ve been distant ever since this Christmas ball was announced.”

“I was just mad because I know neither of us wants to go alone but you don’t want to go together,” hissed Albus.

“Want and can’t are two different things, Albus,” Scorpius hissed back through gritted teeth.

“Well, it’s been a little difficult being Harry Potter’s son and trying to keep a secret like this,” said Albus.

“And it’s a little difficult being the last Malfoy and being gay,” retorted Scorpius. “We talked about this. I need to find the right time to -”

“Tell your father?”

“Yes.”

“What about me?” asked Albus. “What about what I want?”

“You said you were fine with this.”

“That was before I almost fucking died, Scorpius,” spat Albus. “I think that changed my perspective a bit.”

“Then maybe this is just too much for you and your new perspective,” said Scorpius.

“Don’t say that -” interrupted Albus.

“Maybe you want to go explore your options and go to the dance with Anna,” challenged Scorpius.

“Scorp.” Albus tried to reach across the table for Scorpius’ hand, but he withdrew it too quickly. Scorpius’ chair scraped on the floor as he jumped, and he looked around to see if anyone had noticed, and Albus’ temper flared.

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid,” retorted Scorpius. “I just wanted to wait until the right time for my father to find out.”

“It’s been more than half a year,” said Albus. “I didn’t think you’d want to keep me a secret for this long, or that you wouldn’t want me to at least have fun at a party with other people while you did.”

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore,” snapped Scorpius. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, and they left a sour taste on his tongue, but before he could take them back, Albus retorted.

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Scorpius’ stomach dropped. He felt like he had been punched in the gut and was falling and falling with no ground in sight. He wanted to grab onto something, but Albus’ was breathing hard, and his jaw was set. He felt trapped. There was nowhere to go.

“Fine,” said Scorpius. He stood up, and gathered his papers with shaky hands, shoving them into his bag. Without thinking of it - without willing it - his books stacked themselves on the edge of the table and he scooped them up. Albus just sat there, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead.

Scorpius stared at him, taking it in. The floor felt funny beneath his feet - like it wasn’t as solid as it used to be. Albus didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at him, and he just stared straight ahead at a bookshelf full of the history of witches and wizards that had come before them.

Scorpius was sure none of them had ever been as miserable as he felt now.

“Fine,” he whispered again, and walked out of the library on shaky legs.

Behind him, Albus put his face in his hands and cried for the first time in years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.
> 
>    
> PS: The faster you comment, the faster I'll update.
> 
> No, seriously, I read every single one of them.


	8. Mead

Albus had never seen dark circles under his eyes the way he did the next morning. They looked like dark purple bruises above his cheekbones, and for a moment, he’d actually considered going to Madam Pomfrey with some lie to avoid having Scorpius see him like this.

Still, he sat in the Great Hall the next morning, an uneaten waffle in front of him and his second cup of coffee almost empty in his hand. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were sallow with exhaustion as he hunched over the table, gripping the mug for warmth. All the fires in the castle couldn’t cure the chill that had settled into his bones.

He stared at the hulking double doors that lead to the hall, waiting. Scorpius would be along any minute now, and he hoped against hope that habit would take him right to his normal place at the center of the Slytherin table next to Albus since he’d been gone before Albus woke up.

He regretted everything - starting the fight, upsetting Scorpius, and questioning his feelings. Albus knew damn well how Scorpius felt about him - it was obvious in everything they did together from the way he made sure Albus ate well before a Quidditch match right down to the way he seized every opportunity to kiss him. It came through in the way he had run to Albus’ side when he was hurt and refused to leave it.

Albus was just considering going to find Scorpius when he spotted the object of his affection coming through the doors, his head down.

Albus waited with baited breath, staring with wide eyes as Scorpius walked towards the Slytherin table, but stopped short when he looked up and saw Albus sitting there, waiting, with an extra mug of coffee sitting beside him. Albus looked longingly, and his lips parted to mouth ‘I’m sorry,’ but Scorpius turned away before he could, and walked back to the door, scanning the hall and turning down the center aisle.

The mug in Albus’ hands iced over as he watched, helpless, and when he unknowingly lifted it to drink, it stuck to his lips.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think I could sit with you?”

Ainsley looked up from her copy of the  _Daily Prophet,_ startled.

“Of course,” she said, tossing her bag to the ground to make room for Scorpius. “Is something wrong?”

“Got into a row with a friend,” said Scorpius, swinging his leg over the bench. She raised her eyebrows as if his explanation was insufficient. “And broke up with someone. On the same day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were seeing anyone,” said Ainsley.

“It wasn’t really something we publicized,” said Scorpius. He looked around the table, desolate. He couldn’t remember the last time he poured his own coffee and the simple act of grabbing the canister hurt.

“No offense, but you look pretty rough,” said Ainsley. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Scorpius furrowed his brow. Trust wasn’t something he was capable of at the moment.

“No, I’ll be okay,” he said. “But I don’t think I ever thanked you for staying with me that day after the Quidditch match.”

His voice faltered. There it was again, the elephant sitting on his chest, and Albus’ face in the hospital wing, smiling and reassuring him came into his mind, unbidden.

“Of course,” said Ainsley, passing him a bowl of scrambled eggs. Scorpius shook his head. He wasn’t hungry. “I know our families aren’t close. I mean, I think I’ve met your father twice, but you’re still family.”

“Really?”

  
Scorpius hadn’t wanted to sound surprised. He took a sip of his bitter black coffee. Searching for the cream amongst the clutter seemed like too much.

“Yeah,” said Ainsley. Scorpius looked at her long and hard, looking past all the similarities between her face and his mother’s. It was difficult - something in the Greengrass genes made all the women look similar. He’d noticed that years ago when he saw the family portraits.

“You look a lot like my mother,” Scorpius admitted.

“You look a lot like her too,” said Ainsley. “Which is to say, you also look like my mother.”

She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

“Everyone says I look just like my dad,” said Scorpius.

“Well, you do. But there’s a lot of your mum in there too.”

“I take it you don’t get along with your mother?”

“Oh, no,” said Ainsley. “Especially not after she divorced my father and made me change my name back.”

“Where is your father?”

“I have no idea,” Ainsley confessed. “He doesn’t come ‘round, and I think mother intercepts his owls.”

“That’s horrible.”

“ _She’s_  horrible,” said Ainsley. “When I go home for the summer, we don’t even talk. We just kind of coexist.”

“Well, I think you’d always be welcome to spend some time at the Malfoy Manor,” said Scorpius. “As long as you don’t mind echoing hallways and empty rooms. It’s just me and my dad now.”

 _I won’t even have anyone to write to at Christmas,_  thought Scorpius, and he felt his face fall again.

“I’d like that,” said Ainsley. She reached an uncertain hand out and placed it on Scorpius’ back, reassuringly.

“Whatever it is, Scorpius - it’s going to be okay.”

Scorpius gave her a sad smile. It wasn’t going to be okay, but it was good to have some company in the emptiness.

 

* * *

 

Scorpius spent more time with Ainsley in the following days than he had ever spent with any member of his family, save for his parents. They exchanged stories from their childhoods, and for the first time, Scorpius realized how hard it must have been for his parents to take such a drastically different path from their families following the war.

“From what my mother said, your mum and dad took a very hard line about how you were going to be raised,” said Ainsley one day as they made their way through the grand staircase. She leaned back against the railing as it moved. “And my parents just decided to go with tradition. Clearly, it didn’t take, and thus I’m the black sheep.”

“It goes with your black and yellow wardrobe,” said Scorpius with a short-lived smirk. Beyond her, he saw Albus on another staircase, and as they passed, their eyes met. Scorpius saw something in Albus’ eyes the way he had years ago, in another reality, and when he turned away once again it was like an echo and a knife in the gut all at once.

 

* * *

 

After practice, Albus stayed in the locker room, knocking the mud from his boots and robes. He wasn’t sure if practice had been rough or if he’d made it rough, because the closest he had gotten to forgetting Scorpius was when he was chasing the Snitch and dodging bludgers, but his face wasn’t far from Albus’ mind. Every time he flew too close to the goal posts, he flinched and bit his own cheek to distract himself.

“Would have been better without the rain.”

Albus looked over his shoulder as Maggie approached. She sat down on the bench beside him.

“What are you still doing out here?”

Maggie didn’t answer his question.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Albus sighed. “No, not really.”

“Tough. What happened?”

“We had a row,” said Albus. “That’s the long and short of it.”

“Duncan says it’s tense in the dorm with you two not speaking,” said Maggie, picking the dirt from beneath her nails. “Says you don’t come to bed until well after hours, and that Scorpius is always gone before the rest of you get up.”

" _Duncan_ should mind his own business,” said Albus.

“They’re just worried,” said Maggie. “Nothing has ever broken up the great Malfoy/Potter team.”

“I thought my name came first.”

“No, it's alphabetical,” said Maggie definitively. “But you’re best friends. People have noticed you’re not talking.”

“Like I said,” said Albus, “people should mind their own business.”

“And so I will,” said Maggie, standing. “Just let me know if you need to talk.”

As she walked out, Albus placed both hands against his locker and bowed his head. He didn’t know how to talk to anyone but Scorpius - he’d never had to learn how to.

“Maggie?”

She stopped at the door and turned to look at him. Albus glanced over at her, broken for the moment.

“Thanks for caring.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Any time.”

 

* * *

 

 Midterm exams began early, and Scorpius ticked off the days until he was done with his tests. By the time the last full weekend of the term came, he was more than halfway done, which was somewhat of a relief.

On Saturday morning, he stood at his desk, looking over his list of things left to do, and marked off what he no longer had to worry about. The other boys milled about behind him, and Scorpius tried his hardest to ignore them.

“Gryffindor’s not as rough as Hufflepuff this year, but they’re damn talented.”

“My cousin’s a beast on a broom,” said Albus. The corner of Scorpius’ mouth twitched.

“Well, at least she won’t try to kill you, mate,” said Pucey. “And if she does... well, I’ll keep my wand out just in case.”

Albus laughed, and it cut through Scorpius. He tucked the parchment back into his desk and it landed on top of the copy of Frankenstein he’d hidden from himself. He tried his hardest to ignore it, and pulled on his coat and scarf.

“You coming to the match?" Pucey asked. It took Scorpius a moment to realize he was being spoken to.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m going with my cousin,” he said. “We’re going to Hogsmeade after.”

“Sitting in the Hufflepuff stands,” said Pucey, shaking his head in mockery. “Just because you and Albus are having a lover’s spat doesn’t mean you can’t cheer for your house, you know.”

Scorpius knew he didn’t mean anything by it - it was a joke they’d often made over the years - but the way Albus stormed out of the room told him their Seeker didn’t think it was funny.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Scorpius joined Ainsley and her friends on their trek to Hogsmeade, he was exhausted. Watching Albus play had been hard enough after the incident, but watching him from the Hufflepuff stands where no one around him was too invested in the match was even worse. He was left to stare and watch and contain himself while Ainsley and her friends watched the game casually, talking about everything from the upcoming dance to what they were looking forward to in the spring.

“You need chocolate,” said Ainsley as they walked up the street towards Honeydukes. She looped her arm through his and smiled at him. “And maybe a drink.”

“Just some chocolate, thanks,” said Scorpius. He saw the some of the Slytherin Quidditch team entering the Three Broomsticks. He didn’t want to risk running into Albus. It had been stressful enough watching him play - he didn’t want to let on that he’d been worried.

“Just chocolate, then,” said Ainsley, opening the door. “My mother always said that sweets were the fastest way to make friends.”

Scorpius had to stop for a moment inside to gather himself. The longer this day went on, the more chocolate he needed.

 

* * *

 

 

“You need a pick-me-up, my friend,” said Flint, dragging him straight to the bar of the Three Broomsticks. They sidled up to the bar with Maggie, Farley, and Pucey in tow.

“Five meads,” said Flint. The others showed their ID’s -  their birthdays had already passed, and she didn’t question Albus, either because of his company or because of his last name. Before Farley could get their coats onto the nearby rack, there was a drink in Albus’ hand. He didn’t wait for the others to settle in, and took a deep gulp from the tankard.

“That’s it,” said Maggie encouragingly, taking a swig of her own.

“Hey, at least we won the game,” said Farley.

“No thanks to me,” said Flint.

“You were fine,” said Albus. “If I’d caught the Snitch the first time I saw it, we’d be back at the castle by now.”

“Bah,” said Maggie. “Back to the homework and revisions? No, thank you.”

“Here, here,” said Flint, tapping her tankard in agreement.

Albus drained his and caught the barmaid’s eye, tapping the bar for another.

“All right there?” Maggie asked, giving him a knowing look and letting her dirty hair down from its tangled knot atop her head. Flint cringed and started picking mud out of it. Farley rolled his eyes behind them and took a drink.

“Yup,” said Albus. He’d finally gotten some sleep the night before, but found that it was easier to be exhausted and miserable than well-rested and miserable. Now he just had all this energy and awareness wrapped up in his desolation, and even when he found a few moments of distraction there was a sense that something was different and wrong hanging over him - a slowness in his chest when he breathed.

It was the emptiest kind of pain he’d ever felt, and it didn’t help that he had Scorpius’ voice echoing in his head -

_I didn’t much like my life without you in it either._

_Fine._

And so he drank to dull the ache and to silence the echo. He drank until Maggie told him that maybe it was time to go back, but he insisted on just one more, and he drank until Pucey and Farley had to help him back to the castle.

 

* * *

 

 

 Scorpius watched with raised eyebrows as Pucey, Farley, Flint, and Goyle stumbled into the common room with Albus somewhat suspended between them. He was laughing - kind of. It was a strange sound Scorpius had never heard before that fell somewhere between a chuckle and cry.

“You really can’t hold your alcohol,” said Farley, himself unsteady as he stumbled into one of the couches that was thankfully vacant. He reached out to one of the arms to steady himself.

Maggie laughed, her arms around Flint’s waist. “Oh, cut him some slack. We wouldn’t have won the -” she stopped to hiccup and laugh, “match without him today.”

“Yes!” cried Pucey. Other occupants of the common room rolled their eyes. “Potter is back on his feet. Isn’t it great, Malfoy?”

“Lovely,” said Scorpius over the top of his book. He made the mistake of meeting Albus’ eyes and he didn’t like what he saw there.

“Don’t worry about him,” Albus said to Pucey, straightening himself, though he still swayed. “He wouldn’t tell you if he was happy we won. Those Malfoys like their secrets.”

Scorpius sighed and returned his attention to his book. Scorpius didn’t like being on this side of Albus’ ire.

Albus, clearly done with the conversation, stumbled out of the common room toward the dorms, and Scorpius resolved to wait an hour before going to bed to make sure Albus was done throwing up and was well asleep.

“He had a lot to drink,” said Farley, apologetic.

“Don’t make excuses for him,” said Scorpius calmly, taking another piece of chocolate from the large box he’d been working on all afternoon. “You’re all better than that. 

 

* * *

 

 

Late that night, Scorpius woke up from a vague dream that left him uneasy. He stared up at the canopy above his bed for a long time, wondering how he’d been so happy just a month ago. He closed his eyes and allowed himself his one daily moment to remember one of those happy moments when he’d still been looking forward to Christmas break.

 

> _“Wait,” said Albus. “After all that, Winston just gives in?”_
> 
> _Scorpius closed the book and nodded sadly._
> 
> _“He and Julia go through all that, and he just gives in?”_
> 
> _“Well, he was tortured,” said Scorpius. He lay the book down and a large photo of George Orwell stared back at him. “I think it’s kind of a better ending than the alternative. I think the only other logical ending would be for him to have been killed.”_
> 
> _Scorpius shivered as a bitter breeze blew in across the trees and into the Astronomy tower. Albus wrapped the blanket tighter around him._
> 
> _“I was good but... just so sad.”_
> 
> _“I don’t think that could ever happen,” confessed Scorpius. “Even in a world with no magic. The human spirit is too strong. Look what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts.”_
> 
> _“A lot of people died. A lot of good people.”_
> 
> _“And good people will always be willing to lay down their lives to stop the rise of evil,” said Scorpius. “At least I hope they will be.”_
> 
> _Albus rested his head against Scorpius’ shoulder._
> 
> _“I think you’d know,” said Albus. “You’re still the best person I know.”_
> 
> _Scorpius smiled and kissed the top of his head._
> 
> _“Should we go in? You’re shivering,” said Albus._
> 
> _“Just a few minutes more.”_

 

Scorpius shook the thought off and turned over in his bed only to be confronted with the sight of Albus curled up in his bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in the cold after he’d thrown the covers off.

Scorpius tried to ignore it, but the room was frigid, and he could see Albus shivering in his sleep. He sighed and climbed out of bed carefully. He didn’t want to wake anyone up.

Cautiously, he reached over Albus and lifted the heavy comforter up, and carefully laid it over Albus’ body. He hesitated, staring down at him with an indescribable ache that only compared to the loss of his mother, before giving in and brushing Albus' hair back from his forehead, kissing his temple, both wishing he'd wake up and hoping he didn't.

“You deserved better,” whispered Scorpius before turning back to his own bed, where he lay awake for a long time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that's the most emails I've ever woken up to that weren't work related. Call me names all you want - it made my morning :)
> 
> Next chapter: Yule


	9. Yule

Scorpius woke from a dead sleep to Pucey rummaging about. He looked around, confused, still in his uniform with his robes tangled around his feet.

“What time is it?” he groaned.

“It’s almost 7 o’clock, mate,” said Pucey. “We’ve been trying to be quiet but you need to get up if you’re going to go to the ball.”

Scorpius groaned and rolled over. He’d finished his last exam in the middle of the afternoon, and had marched right back to the Slytherin dorms without having lunch and collapsed in bed without taking his clothes off.

“I need a shower.”

“Flint’ll be out in a minute.”

“Great,” groaned Scorpius. He didn’t want to go to the dance, but Ainsley had begged him to come with her and her friends, who he’d actually grown to like. They were no substitute for what he’d lost, but they at least filled the quiet with pleasant enough chatter.

“I’ll be fun,” said Pucey. Albus stepped out of the bathroom already in his dress robes and threw his shower things into his trunk, pointedly avoiding looking at Scorpius’ bed. Even without his glasses on, Scorpius could see that he looked good in his traditional dress garb - black trousers, a pressed white shirt, and a thin tie. Scorpius watched from the edge of his bed as Albus adjusted his sleeves, inserting his cufflinks.

“Where are we meeting the girls?” Albus asked Flint as he walked out of the bathroom, half dressed. Flint hurried to his bed and started pulling on the rest of his suit.

Scorpius grabbed his glasses and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the controlled chaos to abate.

“Down by the main entrance,” said Flint. “And we’re supposed to be there in five minutes.”

“You better hurry, then,” said Albus. Behind him, he saw Farley sneer. He was clearly still irritable about Maggie.

“See, Farley and I don’t have to deal with that,” said Pucey with superiority. “We’re going stag so we can dance with  _everyone_.”

“You’re going stag because you couldn’t get dates,” said Flint. They started bickering, and Scorpius instead focused on Albus as he pulled on his robes and smoothed his damp hair back with his fingers. It was clear that he’d lost about half a stone in the last few weeks, and it showed in his face and shoulders.

It was difficult being so angry at someone and missing them so much at the same time, and Scorpius was sincerely looking forward to a few weeks away from Albus so he could clear his head.

Scorpius looked down at his hands to avoid making eye contact with Albus as he and Flint swept out to meet Maggie and Anna.

“Everything okay, Scorp?” asked Pucey. Scorpius smiled at him.

“Yeah. I’m just still half asleep.”

“Well, get ready. We’ll see you down in the hall, okay?”

“Okay.”

Farley and Pucey left and Scorpius took a deep breath, trying to find the energy to get moving.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until after his shower that Scorpius realized her hadn’t shaved for several days - he couldn’t go to the dance with Ainsley and her friends looking like a bum - that wasn’t the Malfoy way - so he grabbed his kit and laid out all his things, but when he went to dispense some shaving cream into his palm, he found that it was empty.

“Of course it is,” muttered Scorpius, tossing the can into the bin and going back into the dorm. He rummaged through Farley’s things, then Flint’s, then Pucey’s, and couldn’t find a single canister of shaving cream.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Scorpius to the empty room. He eyed Albus’ trunk. If he’d been in the room, Scorpius would never have asked him for anything, but he  _knew_  Albus had been clean-shaven earlier.

Cursing, Scorpius threw open Albus’ trunk and moved things around carefully, making sure he put everything back right where he’d found it until he located Albus’ shaving bag. He opened it and shook the can and was relieved to find that it was at least half full.

“Thank Dumbledore,” said Scorpius, and he reached up to close the trunk, but something caught his eye.

His own handwriting.

In the netting under the lid was a neatly tied stack of letters, and facing outward was an envelope that read “Albus Potter” in Scorpius’ favorite blue ink.

Scorpius threw the shaving cream down on Albus’ bed and pulled the package out. He untied it and fanned the envelopes out on Albus’ comforter, his breath catching in his chest.

They were all there. Every single letter he’d sent Albus over the summer was accounted for, neatly preserved. He grabbed the first one from the week after fifth year had ended and pulled it from its envelope.

The creases were worn and the corners were folded, but the letter its self was pressed perfect, like it had been read carefully a hundred times. Scorpius read over his own letter - he’d written it several times, trying to get the words right and keep his handwriting neat and loving - and a sob escaped his throat.

 _I’m in Cairo, but I wish you were here,_ Scorpius had written.  _There’s so much I want to tell you._

Scorpius slid the letter back into its envelope carefully and placed it back in the stack, tying it all back up neatly and placing it back in Albus’ trunk. All the anger he’d had was gone, and it was replaced with a desperation that he hadn’t felt since he’d talked to Severus Snape -

Except this time, he knew exactly where Albus Potter was.

 

* * *

 

Albus walked Anna into the ball with a smile on his face. He was determined to enjoy himself on the last night of the term, even if it had meant avoiding looking at Scorpius all day long.

“Thank you for being my date, Albus,” said Anna. She really did look very pretty with her blonde hair in an elaborate plait down her back and her shiny silver robes. “I hope it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all,” said Albus. He looked to Flint and Maggie behind her. “Come on, let’s dance.”

Albus had never seen the Great Hall decked out the way it was tonight. In each corner was an elaborately decorated Christmas tree - one decorated for each house - and at the front of the hall where the teacher’s table normally sat was a massive tree that glittered with hundreds of fairy lights and ornaments that glowed with their own internal light. Garland was hung from each of the pillars, and snow fell from the ceiling and dissipated halfway down to the floor.

Other students were already there, and the dance floor was full. Albus took Anna’s hand and twirled her around, watching as she laughed, and they began to dance.

 

* * *

 

“Whoa, what’s that face for?” asked Ainsley as Scorpius approached. Her friends turned around to greet him.

“Nothing,” said Scorpius. “Just had to rush to get here.”

“Well, you’re here now!” Ainsley said brightly, and Scorpius smiled - genuinely smiled - for the first time in days. “And you look really good! That’s a lovely shade of blue.”

Ainsley felt the fabric of his lapel, admiring it.

“Yeah,” said Jessie, one of Ainsley’s Hufflepuff friends. “You clean up nice, Malfoy.”

“I’m a Malfoy,” said Scorpius with mock superiority, adopting an overly-dramatic accent. “Swanky occasions are our forté.”

Jessie laughed and Scorpius escorted both girls inside, where he found that the dance was much louder and more boisterous than he’d expected. It seemed the entire school from third year on was there.

As they walked in, Scorpius scanned the crowd for Albus -the first time he’d  _actively_ looked for him in weeks - but to no avail. He was clearly lost in the crowd on the dance floor.

They passed one of the tables and Ainsley handed Scorpius a butterbeer, which he drank gratefully. It was a poor substitute for food, but it was better than nothing.

“Everyone just looks so nice,” said Ainsley. Jessie agreed and they waved to one of their friends as they passed by.

“You both look lovely,” said Scorpius, feeling rude that he hadn’t said so upon arriving.

 _Always complement a lady,_  his father had told him.

“Thank you, Scorpius,” said Ainsley. “Should we dance?”

“That’s a great idea,” said Scorpius, aware that he sounded over-eager. “Wonderful. Let’s go.”

They entered the throng of teenagers - some of them still looking like children, and some of them looking entirely grown - all dancing and jumping to some fast song he’d heard once or twice on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

 _So many colors_ , thought Scorpius, but he was scanning the crowd for a head of black hair.

The relief among the students was evident in their smiles and laughs, and Scorpius noticed that he was relieved to see the term end too, but not for the reasons he’d expected.

He danced with Ainsley and Jessie for a while, still watching as the crowd shifted, looking for Albus. He didn’t know what he would do, or what he would say - his head was still spinning, but he just knew he needed to see Albus.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally to Ainsley. “I have to go. I’ll see you two in a bit.”

“Okay,” said Ainsley, concerned, as she stopped dancing. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” said Scorpius. “I really think I am.”

And he faded back into the crowd.

“Excuse me... sorry...” Scorpius apologized to every couple he bumped into as one of the slower songs came on. Someone knocked his glasses off of his nose, and Scorpius had to scramble to catch them before they hit the ground.

In the distance, he spotted Anna and her long, platinum hair, but Albus wasn’t with her. Scorpius swore under his breath and continued moving through the crowd.

 _Maybe he left,_ thought Scorpius as he pushed his way through another cluster of dancers.

And then he saw him, meters away, looking through the crowd as well, towering over a group of third years.

Scorpius stood rooted to the spot as Albus met his eyes across the crowd. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He watched as Albus took a deep breath and walked through the crowd, pushing people out of his way, until he got to where Scorpius stood.

He smelled like soap and amber.

“Will you come with me?” Albus asked. He looked terrified and determined. It was the face he wore before a Quidditch match.

“Yes,” said Scorpius.

Albus led Scorpius back through the crowd, Scorpius apologizing all the way as he stepped through the students. When they reached the edge, Scorpius caught up, and they walked side by side out into the corridor.

But Albus didn’t stop. He walked with purpose down one hallway and then another.

“Where are we going?” Scorpius asked.

“Just trust me,” said Albus.

Scorpius fell silent, and they turned down another corridor, the clicking of their dress shoes echoing down the cavernous halls. These parts of the castle were deserted - everyone was in the Great Hall.

Finally, they reached a wall, and Albus stood in front of it. Scorpius opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, but Albus reached out and placed his hand on the stone, closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“Please work,” he whispered.

After a few more breaths, Scorpius gasped and watched as a simple wooden door formed under Albus’ hand.

“What is this?”

Albus opened the door to a dark room, and gestured Scorpius in, his brow heavy and his face serious.

Scorpius walked in, and when he did, lanterns around the cavernous, empty room lit, giving it a haunting glow.

“It’s the Room of Requirement,” said Albus. “They said it was destroyed in the battle, but I went looking for it where my dad told me to. I guess it’s found some of its old magic. Dad always said the castle was still healing its self.”

Scorpius stepped in further and looked around in awe, for a moment forgetting why he was there.

“Wow.”

The door dissolved behind Albus, and Scorpius raised his eyebrows, questioning.

“It’ll come back when you want to leave,” he said.

At the center of the room, near one of the grand columns, was a small table, and a pallet of blankets on the floor. Nearby was a small Christmas tree with simple, colored lights.

“The tree is new,” said Albus.

“This is where you’ve been going,” whispered Scorpius. He looked back to Albus, who nodded solemnly. For a long moment, one of the longest of both their lives, they stared at one another, weeks of anger and irritation peeling away.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry,”

They spoke at the same time, and a tearful smile broke across Albus’ face as he took a few tentative steps towards Scorpius.

“I should have understood why you wanted to wait,” he said slowly. “And I shouldn’t have done anything to hurt you while you did.”

“But I shouldn’t have -”

Albus held up his hand. “Please let me get this out.”

Scorpius nodded.

“I should have come to you days ago, I just didn’t know what to say, and then I got to the dance tonight and I saw you and I knew we were leaving tomorrow... It was stupid to fight over some school ball.”

Scorpius took a single, small step toward Albus.

“I don’t care if everyone back there knows about us. Yes, it would be easier if I could hug you and hold your hand whenever - if that could just be normal - but that doesn’t matter. You asked me before if I wanted to explore my options, and I know you were angry and you probably didn’t mean it, but the truth is that I don’t want to. Ever. I’ve been so lonely without this. I’ve never had to learn how to love anyone except you, and I don’t want to.”

Albus took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I love you.”

Scorpius stared at him. He could hear his own heartbeat. This fingers twitched.

“Please say something,” whispered Albus, shaky, his eyes wide.

But Scorpius didn’t. He closed the gap between them with just a few strides and wrapped his arms around Albus holding him tight.

“I love you too,” said Scorpius quietly when he found his voice. He closed his eyes tight, burying his face in Albus’ shaking shoulders. He held him, feeling all the knots in his body untie themselves, until Albus caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry,” said Scorpius. “I should have never put you through this. I shouldn’t have been angry - you had every right to be frustrated, keeping secrets.”

“No, it’s okay. Your father is your only family and I should have respected that,” said Albus, releasing Scorpius just enough to look at him. There were still tears on his face, and that made Scorpius realize that he was crying a bit too.

“Let’s never do this again,” said Scorpius with a small, choked laugh.

“Never,” agreed Albus. He leaned in tentatively and kissed Scorpius, his hands shaking as he ran them over Scorpius’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure whose tears were whose, and for several minutes they stood in the middle of the room, swaying and kissing and being.

“Did we just get back together at a school dance?” asked Albus.

“Merlin, that’s so trite,” said Scorpius, laughing.

He wiped away the moisture from under Albus’ eyes. “You didn’t even cry when you were in the hospital wing.”

“This was worse.”

Scorpius nodded and just looked at him, twisting Albus’ hair between his fingers and marveling at how green his eyes looked in contrast with his dark robes.

“You look great, by the way,” said Albus. “Sometimes I get so caught up in how smart and kind you are that I forget to see just how handsome you are too.”

“I already said I’m not mad at you,” teased Scorpius. Albus laughed, blushing.

“Right. But I’m not exaggerating.”

“Well, thank you,” said Scorpius. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Albus smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around his waist, and Scorpius kissed him again, slowly and confidently.

Albus kissed him back gently at first, but then Scorpius felt his hands tighten around the back of his robes, and he relaxed into Albus’ arms.

They kissed and Scorpius felt a kind of hunger that had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t eaten.

Albus pulled away, out of breath, and smiled.

“I missed this.”

Scorpius smiled and took his hand, leading him over to the meager pallet and sat down.

“Then let’s make up for lost time,” he said. Albus smiled and joined him, shedding the outer layer of his robes and tossing them on the table.

“You’ll get cold,” Scorpius said.

“Keep me warm,” challenged Albus, sitting down facing Scorpius. His grin didn’t match his bloodshot eyes, and Scorpius had the overwhelming need to take the last few weeks back and make everything better.

He didn’t smile back, and instead pushed Albus back into the blankets and kissed him ardently. Albus responded in kind, his hands finding the inside of Scorpius’ robes and pushing them back from his shoulders. Scorpius took them off and threw them aside before taking off his tie and unbuttoning Albus’ shirt. In the flickering lantern light and the faltering glow of the Christmas tree a few meters away, Albus lost the paleness that had settled in since their fight, and Scorpius forgot about everything else.

Albus looked down at Scorpius’ hands on his chest and looked up, somewhere between confused and excited, breathing hard.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” admitted Scorpius, leaning over him.

“I don’t either,” breathed Albus.

Scorpius took a deep breath. “Do you want to figure it out together?”

Albus grinned and nodded, and Scorpius kissed him again. That was all he needed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering this entire fanfiction is build around the line "I've never had to learn to love anyone except for you," this chapter was very hard for me to let go of, because there is no way I could spend enough time or do enough to make it perfect.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	10. Morning

Albus woke up slowly the next morning, coming out of a dreamless sleep. He lay face down on his pillow, his arms around his head, sheltering him from any light in the room.

The night came back to him in flashes as he woke slowly - Scorpius’ hands on his chest. Clothes on the floor. Scorpius’ heavy breath on his neck and the taste of salt on his skin.

_Are you ok?_

_Don’t let me hurt you._

_I love you._

Albus raised his head and looked around. He was back in the Slytherin dorm in his own bed. After a moment, he became aware of movement outside, and he pulled back the hangings on his bed just a bit to peek outside.

Scorpius was asleep in his bed, still wearing his now-wrinkled dress shirt and trousers from the previous night with Freya asleep just above his head. He was hugging his pillow, his hair messy and falling in his face, and Albus wished he’d been waking up over there instead of in his own bed.

Flint was only half on his bed with his legs hanging over the edge, snoring, wearing only his boxers and, somehow, his suspenders.

Farley was pacing back and forth, throwing his things in his rucksack, while Pucey sat on his trunk at the foot of his bed, lacing up his boots.

“All right!” yelled Farley, realizing Albus was awake. He walked over and slapped Flint on the leg to wake him. “Everyone needs to get up! Train leaves in an hour.”

Scorpius jolted awake, and Albus watched as he looked around, confused. Freya hissed loudly in protest and leaped down, running under his bed. He pushed himself up, looked down at the state of what he was wearing, and then smiled for a moment before looking over at Albus, who smiled back warmly.

Behind him, Flint had woken with a jolt, nearly fell off his bed, and looked around for a moment, dazed, before running into the bathroom. Albus heard the telltale sounds of vomiting and cringed.

“Well,” said Pucey, putting his hands on his hips. “It looks like everyone had a good time last night.”

“I know I did,” said Farley, nodding to Albus. “Anna was looking for you and we started talking. She said you two were just there as friends, so we went for a walk I’m taking her out to dinner over the break.”

“Well, good luck,” said Albus.

From beyond the door, Flint wretched again, and the boys cringed.

“Someone snuck in Firewhisky,” explained Pucey, shaking his head.

“Anyway,” said Farley, looking back to Albus, “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on your toes.”

“Nope,” said Albus, holding his hands up in submission. “She’s a very nice girl, but she’s not my type.”

“Excellent,” said Farley.

Flint stumbled out of the bathroom, holding onto the doorframe for support.

“Where are my trousers?”

Scorpius looked at him with sympathy. “Are you sure they actually made it back to the room?”

“No,” said Flint with a hiccup. “No, I’m really not.”

 

* * *

 

 

Albus and Scorpius boarded the train back to London as early as possible and claimed one of the cabins at the end of the train. Freya, who had somewhat made her peace with Albus over the course of the term, lay across the back of the seat around his neck.

“She’s basically a living scarf,” said Albus, scratching Freya’s head. She rewarded him with a purr.

Scorpius, who was rummaging through his things in one of the racks, had stopped and was staring at him, smiling.

“What?”

Scorpius shook his head.

“Nothing. I just really missed you.”

“Well, I would have thought you’d had enough of me last night,” said Albus, grinning.

“Stop!” cried Scorpius, blushing.

“No. I’m happy. I wanna talk about it,” Albus joked.

“I think it’s time we did,” said Scorpius. He turned around and folded his arms as the train lurched into motion. “I’m going to tell my dad everything over the break, whether he likes it or not.”

Albus, who had been in a state of exhausted humor, sobered quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Scorpius, definitively. His mind was made up. “There’s no reaction he can have that will change how I feel about you. So if you’re ready to face your family, then I am too.”

Albus smiled crookedly and nodded. “Never been more ready for anything.”

Someone knocked on the door.

“Yes?” Scorpius called.

“Anything off the trolley, dears?”

Both roared “no!”

Scorpius checked the lock just in case.

 

* * *

 

London appeared outside the window too quickly. Scorpius had spent the last hour leaning on Albus, reading from _A Christmas Carol_ , and wasn’t ready to get off the train just yet.

Reluctantly, he bookmarked their page and set the book down, and Albus addressed the elephant in the room.

“Okay, so we tell our parents before we get back on this train, deal?”

“Deal,” agreed Scorpius. “Although if I don’t show up at the platform in January, you’ll know why.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“What if it isn’t? What if Draco Malfoy can’t stand the idea that his son isn’t ‘normal’ and that I might be the end of the Malfoy line?”

“I don’t think that will be the case,” Albus said. “Your dad loves you.”

“He loves me, yes. But I’m really afraid that with my mother gone, this might be too much for him.”

“And if it is, you just send me an owl and I’ll come find you.”

Scorpius looked up at him as the train stopped. “I’ll figure it out.”

Albus kissed the top of Scorpius’ head, reluctant to let go, but knowing he had to.

They grabbed their things from the racks as other students started moving about in the corridor. Scorpius put Freya back in her cage, cooing at her as he shut the door. Once they had all their things and before he opened the door, Scorpius pulled Albus close and kissed him one last time before the break began.

“I’m going to miss you,” said Albus quietly.

“Me too,” said Scorpius. “It’s only a couple weeks.”

Albus nodded solemnly, and together, they exited the train.

The platform was a cold chaos as their classmates ran to their parents and hugged their friends goodbye. Albus saw no sign of either of his parents or his sister, but he did see Maggie and Flint sitting on their trunks, waiting against a wall.

“Be right back - just want to check on Flint.”

Scorpius nodded and Albus walked over to where they sat. Flint’s face was completely white, and his head was resting on the bricks behind him. Maggie wasn’t looking her best either, but at least she was alert.

“Is he even awake?”

“Nah,” said Maggie. “Barely got ‘em off the train.”

Albus chuckled. “Did you ever find his trousers?”

Maggie winked. “I had them.”

Albus raised his eyebrows. “Really? Hey, I’m sorry about ditching last night. I hope you and Anna weren’t too upset.”

“No, not at all. Where did you go?”

“Scorpius and I had a talk.”

Maggie perked up, intrigued, loosening her bulky scarf around her neck. “Is everything better? ‘Cause you both looked miserable.”

“Yeah, I think we both were.”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Scorpius still scanning the crowd.

“So you guys are back on?”

Albus grinned with a half-shrug. “Something like that.”

“ _That_ ,” Maggie said, pointing at his chest, “is the face of a man who got laid last night.”

Albus grinned even more. “Something like that.”

Maggie laughed. “I’m glad you two are back on. Didn’t seem right without you speaking.”

“Thanks. Just wanted to make sure you guys were alright.”

“We’re good. Merry Christmas, Albus.”

“Merry Christmas, Maggie.”

Albus bent over and gave her a warm hug before walking back to where Scorpius stood.

“Is Flint okay?”

“He’ll be fine.”

Scorpius looked around and, after a few minutes, spotted both his father and Harry Potter talking near one of the brick pillars.

He and Albus made their way over as Lily intercepted Harry, jumping into his outstretched arms.

“There she is!” said Harry, lifting her off the ground for a moment. “How was your term?”

“It was actually really good. I’ve got top marks in most of my classes!”

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and turning back to Draco.

“Lily here wants to be a Herbologist,” bragged Harry. “I’m putting her in touch with Neville over summer break to see if she can intern with him.”

“I hope he says yes,” said Lily.

Draco smiled at her. “I’m sure he will. Neville and your father go way back. And there are the boys.”

Scorpius was still surprised when he saw his father wearing anything other than black. For two years after Astoria had died he’d worn nothing but black robes and jumpers, and now when he wore a simple green sweater and gray slacks, Scorpius was encouraged.

“Hi, dad,” he said, hugging Draco while Albus received a warm embrace from Harry.

“Did you have a good term?” asked Draco. Scorpius shrugged.

“It was pretty standard.”

Draco looked at Albus and extended his hand, which Albus shook after the briefest moment of confusion.

“Mr. Malfoy,” nodded Albus.

“I heard you took quite a fall a while back.”

“Yes, sir,” said Albus. “I’m alright now, though.”

“Thank goodness,” said Harry, who looked to Scorpius. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him.”

“It’s my job,” said Scorpius.

Albus and Scorpius exchanged glances as their fathers began chatting again.

“Are you going to Floo home?” Draco asked as Harry took Lily’s bag from her.

“Unfortunately, no. I’ve got the car. Ginny needs me to pick up the things for Christmas Eve dinner.”

“Ugh, grocery shopping?” moaned Lily.

“Yes, grocery shopping,” said Harry, who still had his arm around her and held her close. He asked Draco, “Do you have any big plans for the holiday?”

“No, just me and Scorpius,” he said. He gave Scorpius a sad smile, as though afraid his son expected more, but Scorpius just beamed.

“We always get a small ham and have our pudding first,” said Scorpius brightly. “It’s tradition.”

Harry waited a beat, then said, “Ginny and I would love to have you over for Christmas Eve. Of course, you’ll have to have your dinner first. She’s a stickler for that.”

Albus, who had been looking down at his shoes, looked up as though he had been slapped.

“Are you sure?” Draco looked somewhat confused. “After all the horrible things I said at Hogwarts about you and your wife’s family -”

“I think helping save her son’s life a few years ago more than made up for it,” said Harry. “Like we said. Water under the bridge.”

Albus had learned that his father’s ability to move past things was greater than an ordinary man’s, and while he often thought it did him more harm than good, at the moment he was grateful. As a child, he hadn’t understood how lonely his father’s upbringing had been. Now he knew he wouldn’t wish that loneliness on anyone – even Draco Malfoy and his son.

Draco looked at Scorpius. “Would you like to go to the Potters’ for Christmas?”

Scorpius looked at Albus, his mouth open a bit in shock.

“I... um...” Scorpius stammered. “I... think that sounds lovely.”

Albus looked at him, wide-eyed.

“It’s settled then,” Draco said. “We’d love to, Harry. Thank you.”

“Great. Well, we’ll see you then. I’ll send you an owl with the address.”

“I have it,” said Scorpius quickly, without thinking. “I mean, I have your address somewhere.”

Harry nodded. “Okay then. We’ll see you Thursday at six o’clock.”

“Thursday at six it is,” said Draco. The two men shook hands and Harry said his goodbyes, leading Lily away as she started telling him about her friends.

Albus picked his bag up from the floor and swung it back over his shoulders, moving to follow them, but walking backward to look at Scorpius.

“Wait,” he mouthed.

Scorpius, who looked utterly bewildered, nodded in agreement.

 

* * *

 

 

Scorpius walked through Diagon Alley with Draco, and though he was anxious about Christmas, he was overwhelmingly happy to see his father.

“How have things been?” he asked eagerly, holding onto the straps of his rucksack as they walked. “I mean... have you been keeping busy?”

“Actually, I have,” said Draco. He walked with his hands behind his back as always - never in a hurry, never less than composed. “Ever since your grandfather died I’ve been trying to put the fortune he left behind to good use in a way that your mother would have been proud of.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He did a lot of damage, my father,” Draco said as they passed Ollivander’s. The alley was cold and mostly empty, but there were still a few witches and wizards milling about. Scorpius was happy to see that it was covered in Christmas garland, and he smiled. It reminded him of how the Great Hall had looked the night before.

He wished he’d had more time with Albus.

“I think the best thing we can do is help the Ministry fund a task force to find those with magical blood that were disconnected in the wars of the last century. I think it’s difficult for families that have been out of the community and muggle-borns to assimilate again.”

“I’ve never really thought of that,” said Scorpius.

“It was actually Granger that got me thinking about it,” Draco admitted, somewhat shamefully. “She said in one of her earlier speeches that she got lucky that she made friends at Hogwarts that helped her, and every Mud..”

Draco cleared his throat. Scorpius frowned and knew what his father almost said.

“Sorry, sometimes old vocabulary creeps up on you even when you don’t mean it,” said Draco. “But sometimes muggle-borns don’t make their friends that fast. So if the Ministry can identify them earlier, maybe they can offer some kind of support.”

“Like classes?”

Draco nodded. He stopped at one of the nearby stands and ordered two cups of hot cider.

“And maybe some classes and groups for their parents,” said Draco. He handed Scorpius his drink, which he accepted gratefully. Hot apple cider with cinnamon tasted like Christmas.

“Muggle-borns often wind up pretty alienated from their families after Hogwarts.”

“That’s what happened to Albus’ grandmother, Lily,” said Scorpius. “She barely had any contact with them as an adult.”

Draco raised his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t have known that,” he said.

“Yeah. I guess Harry said they just didn’t understand her anymore,” said Scorpius.

Scorpius looked at Draco, wondering if the same thing would happen to him.

Draco regarded him for a moment. “I’ve got to go to Gringotts for a minute. Do you want to look around a bit?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Draco nodded and waited a beat before pulling his son into a tight hug. “It’s good to have you home, son.”

Scorpius hugged him back. “I’m happy to be here.”

Draco released him after a moment and held him at arm’s length.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Then we’ll go home. I have a surprise for you.”

“I love surprises.”

“I know.”

Draco left Scorpius in the center of the market, and he took the opportunity to look around and drink his cider leisurely, taking a peek at the holiday stalls lining the street. There were confections and jewelry and an entire stall devoted to notebooks that rewrote your sentiments into love poems.

What caught Scorpius’ eye, however, was a small stand on a corner manned by a wizened wizard with dark skin and a long, gray beard. His stand wasn’t drawing much attention, but he seemed content wrapped in his bright coat.

“Good afternoon,” he said to the man politely.

“Hello, young man,” he said. Scorpius recognized his accent as Egyptian. The table was covered in talismans and amulets of all kinds - some of them elaborate with gemstones and silver, and others simple with only a stone on a cord.

“What can I help you find?”

“I’m looking for a gift,” said Scorpius. “Someone who’s a bit accident prone. Someone who needs protecting.”

“Ah,” said the man, standing. He wiggled his fingers as he looked across the table. “Well, I have a few.”

Scorpius watched as he surveyed his wares, looking at the deep lines on his face. He wondered how old the man was, how much he’d seen...

“I think... I think this one might be the one you’re looking for, young man.”

He untangled a simple amulet - an amber stone - from the others. It was small, and could have disappeared in Scorpius’ palm - something that could be concealed beneath Quidditch robes.

“Yes, I think this is one,” he said again, holding it out. “The gold symbol inside has a powerful protective enchantment, and it is an ancient symbol of my people for protection, used by Egyptian wizards for thousands of years.”

Scorpius took the amber stone and held it up to let the light filter through.

“Yeah,” he said, digging in his pocket for some coins. “This is the right one.”

“Would you like to see the others?”

“No, this is the one.”

Inside the amber was a small, gold scorpion.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you've had a good day. Little less excitement here today. Not feeling this chapter quite as much but sometimes you've got to connect the dots.
> 
> Let me know in the comments what you think and what you're imagining happening next! I love hearing from you!
> 
> xoxo


	11. Glass

Albus smiled as Harry turned his old Subaru up the long, winding path to their house. It took over an hour to get from London to the Potter home by car - something they rarely ever did, but Albus knew his father took some kind of comfort from the normalcy of just driving to and from the grocery store.

It was one of the things that made life with Harry Potter even more strange.

As they approached, he could see the bright red of his mother’s hair in the distance. She was waiting in front of the house, waving and smiling.

The Potter house was large, old and made of stone, and it sat in a clearing just outside the boundary of a forest. Harry had said they chose the house so the children could run and play, but Ginny had admitted to Albus a few years ago that the quiet and space to put up ample protective wards helped Harry sleep better.

An electric charge ran over Albus’ skin as they crossed the magical barrier that surrounded the house.

“Be nice to your mother,” Harry warned Albus and Lily. “She’s very excited to have you home now that James has moved out.”

“I’m always nice,” said Lily.

Albus rolled his eyes. “Tell that to Millie Thomas.”

“It’s not my fault her boyfriend likes me better,” snapped Lily.

“Wait, are you dating someone?” Harry asked, turning around. “You’re not allowed to date until you’re sixteen.”

“Dating is a strong word,” she said, smiling sweetly.

Harry glanced at Albus as he pulled into the driveway. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Nope.”

 _Although_ , thought Albus,  _Lily flitting from boyfriend to boyfriend might just take the pressure off of me._

Ginny ran to the car as soon as it was stopped and opened the back door to greet Lily. The two women squealed and hugged each other, and Ginny gushed over how beautiful she was and how much she’d grown.

Albus stumbled out of the car less-than-gracefully, still weary, dragging his and Lily’s rucksacks with him.

“Albus!”

Ginny appeared in front of him, and Albus couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. She moved to throw her arms around him but stopped short when she looked at his face.

“Albus, you look terrible.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. Are you ill?”

Albus shook his head, looking at his reflection in the car window. It was true that he was pale and a bit thinner than normal, but it was the puffiness under his eyes that gave him away.

“Rough couple weeks,” he said with a shrug. “Nothing a nap and dad’s cooking can’t fix.”

Albus gave her a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. In the downstairs window, he could see the Christmas tree was decorated and lit, and from the kitchen he could smell pie.

He missed Scorpius already, but this was about as good as it was going to get.

* * *

 

“What.” Scorpius took a breath. “Happened?”

Scorpius dropped his bag on the floor of the Malfoy Manor atrium and stared in shock. They’d appeared into the courtyard because Draco said his surprise depended on it, and now Scorpius understood why.

In the middle of the atrium stood a large Christmas tree, decorated in every color Scorpius could imagine. It glistened in some warm light that didn’t seem natural to the space, and because the tree dominated the room, it took Scorpius a moment to realize that everything else was a bit different too. Where the walls had been a cold silvery gray before, they were a warm beige. Where the banisters had been metal, now they were wooden. The lanterns were golden instead of black, and when he peered around the Christmas tree to look into the main sitting room, he saw that the fireplace was lit and the old leather furniture had been replaced with warmer armchairs facing the hearth which was currently covered in candles and garland.

“What happened?” Scorpius asked again, adjusting his glasses.

“You said that this place was cold, and you were right. I’m not like my parents and you _certainly_ aren’t like any of your grandparents,” said Draco. “It was time for the Malfoy Manor to change like the Malfoy family has.”

Scorpius looked around, dumbfounded, and set Freya’s carrier down. This was not what he’d expected at all.

“Do you like it?” Draco asked, uncertain.

“Like it? I love it!” Scorpius’ voice echoed in the atrium.

Scorpius grinned as the Malfoy’s two House Elves, Pokey and Pike, entered the atrium to greet him.

“Master Scorpius!”

“Hello!”

As they approached, Scorpius let Freya out of her cage, and she greeted the elves, looping herself around their small legs. Scorpius crouched down to greet them both.

“I see you’ve been busy changing this place with my father,” he said.

Pokey, the more excitable and lively of the two, bounced.

“Yes, Master Scorpius. Pike and Pokey have been working on the entire manor with Master Draco for weeks now.”

Scorpius looked up at his father with a lopsided smile, and Draco smiled down at him, restrained, his hands folded behind his back as usual.

“Why don’t you take Master Scorpius to see his room?”

“Yes, Master Draco,” said Pike. “And then Pike will make Master Scorpius lunch.”

“Roast beef?” asked Scorpius.

“Of course,” said Pike.

Scorpius looked around and sighed with a smile. A lot had changed since he’d last been home, not only in the house but in himself. For a moment, he forgot about the dread of telling his father about Albus, and was just a sixteen-year-old boy who was glad to be home for Christmas.

* * *

 

“Ginny, get out of the kitchen,” said Harry kindly, gently moving his wife out of the way. Albus crouched and swept the flour off the floor.

“I was just trying to help,” she said.

“I think you’ll help more by going to the sitting room with your brother,” said Harry. He pressed a glass of wine into her hand. “Go.”

Ginny frowned and stalked off, leaving Albus and Harry to cook.

“She’s a menace in here,” said Harry, shaking his head.

“She tries, though,” defended Albus. “She can make a decent grilled cheese sandwich.”

“Well, she almost burned our first flat down making one right out of Hogwarts,” said Harry. “Glad to hear she’s improved.”

“Do you need any help, Uncle Harry?”

Rose stood in the doorway, looking eager.

“Actually,” said Harry. “Can you and Hugo put the extender in the table? We have a couple of extra people.”

Albus wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile or be sick. He hadn’t had time to talk to Scorpius at the train station, but he was fairly certain they were going to have a talk with their parents tonight after dinner. Albus was picturing pulling Ginny, Harry, and Draco into the sitting room where there were plenty of doorways to escape through if things got heated.

Not that he was scared or anything. He had to keep it together for Scorpius’ sake.

“Who?” asked Hermione, entering the kitchen. She was windswept, and kissed Harry on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

Albus poured her a glass of wine and she thanked him, taking a long drink.

“Draco and Scorpius Malfoy.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and glanced at Albus before looking back at Harry, leaning on the counter beside him. Albus put his head down and got back to stirring the mashed potatoes.

“Is that so?”

“Well, I saw him on the platform when I was picking the kids up and it’s just him and Scorpius. He’s changed and Scorpius is Al’s b- best friend,” Harry stumbled. Albus chalked it up to the firewhiskey he’d had earlier. If the stuttering was starting now, maybe they’d all be too drunk to be angry when they talked…

“Well, that’s kind of you,” said Hermione. “Draco’s actually been working with the Ministry of Magic on a few projects, so I suppose I’ll have to get over it.”

Albus started carrying the food from the kitchen to the dining room table where Rose and Hugo had just finished resetting the table.

“Are we all going to fit in here?” Hugo asked.

“We’ll make it work,” Albus assured his cousin.

“James!”

Rose shuffled out from behind the table, and Albus turned around to see her throw her arms around her cousin.

“Wasn’t sure you were going to make it,” said Albus with a smile.

“Yeah, Bill’s a bit demanding sometimes,” said James, releasing Rose with a grin. “Had me in Germany meeting with some of the curse breakers there.”

“Is he actually letting you do field work yet?”

James snorted, hugging Hugo.

“Of course not. Just paperwork and technical stuff.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you love that.”

“It’s not so bad,” said James. He reached to grab a roll from a basket on the table, but Albus swatted his hand away. “Turns out, German witches are very open-minded.”

James winked at him before walking into the kitchen and Albus sighed. His entire family was in the house, laughing and celebrating, and there he was setting the table, nervous about whether or not Scorpius would fit in and terrified that they would reject both of them.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ve got it!”

Albus ran for the front hall, but he was too late. Ginny had beat him there and was welcoming in Draco Malfoy, who looked entirely too proper to be standing in the Potter home. In his arms was a large, elaborate cake.

“Oh my gosh,” said Ginny. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

Draco gave her a cordial smile. “I wanted to contribute.”

“Well, come this way,” she said, leading him towards the dining room and calling back to Scorpius. “Make yourself at home!”

While Draco went to unburden himself, Albus slipped into the front hall where Scorpius was taking his coat off. Unlike his father, Scorpius was wearing jeans and a jumper that fit right in with the Potter-Weasley family.

“Scorp?”

Scorpius, who was wide-eyed and dazed, wrapped his arms around Albus and held on tight.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Scorpius said, his voice muffled in Albus’ shoulder. “Just the usual.”

“Ah,” said Albus. He rubbed Scorpius’ back in circles and held him tight just a bit longer. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Can we get this over with after dinner, please?”

“That’s what I was thinking too,” said Albus, releasing him. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure they were alone before he gave Scorpius a quick kiss.

“Okay. Because I’m going to be sick if this goes on any longer,” said Scorpius. “And by ‘sick’ I mean I’m going to be sick  _again_.”

“Has he said anything?”

“No, that’s the problem,” said Scorpius, cleaning his glasses on the edge of his shirt. “He’s so... calm. He redecorated the entire manor while we were at school. There’s a Christmas tree and everything.”

“That’s not normal?”

“No,” said Scorpius. “You don’t understand. He resurfaced the  _entire house_. It’s all... normal, now. Un-Malfoyed.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, he’s always been a great father, but...” Scorpius sighed. “He got weird when he didn’t want to tell me exactly how bad my mother’s condition was before she died. And it was just like this.”

“Maybe he’s just stressed,” said Albus. “Aunt Hermione is in there and she said he’s been working with the ministry.”

“I guess,” said Scorpius, unconvinced. “Do I smell bread?”

Albus stared in disbelief. “You are so unbelievably predictable.”

“What? I’m hungry even if I do feel a bit ill.”

Albus shook his head and led Scorpius into the living room where his entire family was milling about, laughing and drinking.

Rose and Hugo waved at Scorpius from their card game and Ron called out to him from the armchair next to the Christmas tree.

“Hey! Scorpius! How bad was Albus’ Quidditch accident?”

Ron’s mockery had been escalating all day.

“I keep telling him you’re supposed to throw the quaffle at the posts, not yourself, but he doesn’t really listen,” said Scorpius and Ron threw his head back with laughter.

“Uncle Ron is on his third firewhisky,” Albus said quietly.

“I wish my dad was,” muttered Scorpius.

Draco entered the room with Harry in tow. He’d been given a glass of wine and had a smile on his face. Albus walked over to greet him.

“Do you need anything, Mr. Malfoy? I can make Rose and Hugo move if you’d like a place to sit.”

Draco chuckled, which shocked Albus. “No, Albus. But thank you.”

Draco turned to Harry. “Your home is lovely.”

“Thank you,” said Harry, who then called to everyone else. “Come on. Dinner is ready.”

Scorpius joined Albus as the rest of his family filed into the dining room.

“How is it possible that you’ve gone more pale?” muttered Albus.

“It’s one of my many skills.”

Scorpius wound up seated between Albus and his father, and before the bread could even be passed around the table, Albus could feel the tension coming off of Scorpius. His stress was tangible, and Albus looked around the table at his entire family. His mother, his father, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione - his cousins and his siblings - he’d let them all down at one point or another and suddenly the possibility of doing so again was crushing.

“Albus? Albus!”

Rose shoved the bread basket under his nose.

“Sorry.”

He took it and served himself before passing it down the table and seizing the wine bottle, pouring himself a glass. Wordlessly, Scorpius held out his glass as well, and Albus filled it.

The chatter rose around the table, and in the overfilled dining room, the noise was deafening. Every time Ron laughed his voice echoed around the room, and after a while, he and Harry seemed to be having an excellent time embarrassing Rose and Lily.

“Now, Rose,” Harry said. “I’m told that Lily has had quite the term.”

“She has,” said Rose. “She’s doing great in all of her classes, and she’s slated to join the Quidditch team next year -”

“And apparently she’s stolen someone’s boyfriend?” said Ron.

“I didn’t  _steal_  anything!” said Lily. Her high-pitched tone carried around the room.

“Oh, come on,” said Ginny. “I was exactly like her at that age.”

“Ew.” Lily wrinkled her nose.

“Yes, before Harry and I got together I dated a handful of the other Gryffindor boys.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” said James, smirking.

“Oh, please,” snapped Lily. “None of the girls from your year will even come near you.”

“Because they’re still mending their broken hearts,” James assured her.

“What about you, Albus?”

“What about me?” said Albus, confused. He’d been very focused on draining his wine glass. Scorpius had already emptied his and was refilling it inconspicuously. His food remained untouched, and Draco looked concerned but said nothing.

“Is there anyone special in your life?” Ron asked.

To stall, Albus took a long drink of his wine, and before he could swallow, Scorpius spoke.

“Well, we have each other.”

Albus gulped down his wine and looked at him.

 _Oh, we’re doing this_ now _?_

From the other end of the table, James laughed.

“I don’t think that’s what he meant, mate.”

“That’s exactly what he meant,” said Draco.

Albus stared at Scorpius, knowing the moment could go one of two ways - he could either gloss over the comment and say something about the bread, or he could go with it.

“Isn’t it?”

Draco was looking at Scorpius patiently, his expression entirely neutral, and a hush fell over most of the table. James leaned over to Ginny.

“Did I miss something?” asked quietly. Albus heard the shuffle of shoes and a brief groan from James, and he knew his mother had kicked him.

Scorpius took a long, deep, shuddering breath and looked away from his glass to his father and nodded.

“Yes,” he said, his voice firm.

“Damn it, Ron,” said Ginny. “We agreed.”

Draco looked at Ginny, apologetic. “It’s okay.”

Everyone was silent, and Albus looked across the table at his parents. Harry stared back at him, his hair parted in the wrong place so that his scar was just barely visible. Under the table, Albus took Scorpius’ hand and gripped it tight under the table.

Albus had been distracted by the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, and it took him a moment to work out what his mother had said.

“Wait, you agreed on what?”

Ginny sighed and leaned back in her chair as Harry answered.

“We agreed that we’d let you tell us yourselves when you were ready.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” said Ron, his face red. “I’m sorry.”

Hermione patted his hand.

“It’s fine,” said Draco.

“You knew?”

Harry gave Albus a sympathetic smile. “We’ve known for a while, Albus.”

Albus opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance. Beside him, the wine glass Scorpius had been holding shattered in his hand and he leaped back from the table.

“I’m so sorry,” he said to no one in particular. Ginny started to assure him that it was fine, but Scorpius stood up, keeping his bloodied, wine-covered hand from touching anything. “I just... I need a minute.”

Albus was nearly out of his seat to follow, but Draco stood up and motioned for him to stay put.

“Let me talk to him,” said Draco.

Albus lowered himself back down in his seat slowly as Draco left the room, and he heard the front door close. Hermione begrudgingly leaned across the table and handed something to Rose who grinned.

Slowly, Albus turned and looked at the rest of his family, who were all staring at him. He didn’t know what to say or do, so he just picked up the nearest thing and started eating.

“The bread is really good.”

* * *

 

Scorpius stood in the Potters’ driveway, picking glass out of his bleeding hand. The wine had gotten into some of the shallow cuts and his hand was on fire. The sky was clear but the wind was howling through the trees, and it was an icy blast coming from the nearby forest.

“Scorpius?”

Scorpius didn’t turn around for his father. He didn’t say anything. He just picked the glass out of his hand.

Draco came around in front of him and took Scorpius’ hand, placing it palm up in his own. With a few quick waves of his wand, the blood was gone and there was no trace of injury.

“How long have you known?” Scorpius whispered.

“Since last summer,” said Draco, releasing Scorpius’ hand.

“How long have the Potters known?”

Draco sighed. “We talked about it after you left for Hogwarts this year. That was when we agreed to let you and Albus come to us yourselves.”

Scorpius fell silent. He still hadn’t looked at Draco, and he folded his arms against the wind as it cut through his jumper.

Draco spoke slowly and carefully. “I didn’t want to pressure you into talking about it until you were ready.”

“Do you have any idea what the last few months have been like?” Scorpius asked, his voice low and quiet. “Do you have any idea what I put Albus through because I didn’t want to disappoint you until I had to?”

“Disappoint me?”

“I’m not exactly the Malfoy super-wizard aristocrat everyone wanted me to me. Even grandfather said I wasn’t strong like -”

“Your grandfather was a bastard,” interrupted Draco.

“And now I’m gay. And I might not give you the grandchildren you wanted and I might be the end of the Malfoy line. So yes, I was avoiding it.”

Draco’s face fell and his shoulders dropped. “Scorpius, you’re not disappointing me.”

Scorpius looked at him, unconvinced.

“You’re a kind, brilliant young man. You’re intelligent and you’re friendly... you’re nothing like I was at your age,” said Draco. He placed his hands on his son’s shoulders. Scorpius didn’t look up, so Draco bent to meet his eyes. “How could I be disappointed in you? Because you’re in a relationship with Albus Potter? Even though we’re on good terms now, you could have picked someone other than the son of my school rival -”

Scorpius glanced at him, his eyes narrow, and Draco sighed.

“Well, no. You couldn’t have, could you?”

Scorpius looked up at him, noticing for the first time that they were the same height now. Draco shook his head and placed his hands on both sides of Scorpius’ face.

“I am happy for you,” he said clearly, definitively. “I would give  _anything_  to have met your mother at your age so we could have more time together.”

“You could have told me you knew,” said Scorpius. He didn’t want to cry - he didn’t want to be the kind of person that cried this much, but the last month had been so difficult that he couldn’t keep his voice from shaking.

“I’m sorry,” said Draco. “I thought I was doing the right thing by waiting until you were ready to tell me.”

“We’ve been sneaking around. Hiding. I said some very hurtful things because I was scared -”

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” said Draco. “Ever.”

Scorpius looked back at the Potter house - so warm and inviting and full of love.

“Do you think mum would have liked him? Albus?”

Draco closed his eyes for a long moment and pulled his son close. “I think she would have loved him.”

Draco held Scorpius for a long time. “She would have been proud of you, Scorpius.”

Scorpius heard the door open behind them, and turned to see Albus peek outside.

“Albus, could you come here?”

Draco motioned for Albus to join them, which he did after grabbing Scorpius’ coat. When he met them near the car, he placed it around Scorpius’ shoulders.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m very sorry that you and Scorpius felt you had to hide,” said Draco.

“My parents already apologized to me,” said Albus. “But I know you thought it was what was best.”

“Sometimes parents just get it wrong,” admitted Draco. “Either way... I’m very glad that the two of you are happy.”

Scorpius wrapped his arm around Albus’ shoulders and smiled at his father. “Thank you.”

And together, they walked back inside.

* * *

 

After Scorpius hade made a sincere apology for breaking the glass and stepping outside, Ginny and James laid out an array of desserts on the table. Now that the weight of the world was off his shoulders, Scorpius had regained his appetite with a vengeance. Albus watched in awe as he had one of everything, and when the party broke up to lounge around the living room, he carried a cinnamon roll with him.

“I’m so relieved,” said Scorpius, taking another enthusiastic bite. “I haven’t had much of an appetite for the last couple of days.”

Albus just smiled and shook his head. His family had crammed its self into the living room, and Draco was sitting next to Harry and Ginny on the couch.

Scorpius found a spot on the base of the fireplace next to the Christmas tree. Hugo and Rose were back to playing their game of cards - she was teaching him how to play a Muggle game that a friend had taught her. Ron and Hermione were laughing, and Harry, Ginny, and Draco were discussing something to do with the ministry. James sat in a plush armchair near the window, sharing it with Lily who sat on the arm, asking him questions about Germany.

Albus looked at his family and smiled, his heart full. He couldn’t have asked for anything more, and to have Scorpius here with them, welcome and accepted, made him ache with happiness. It wasn’t perfect, but this was the closest to perfect he could ever hope for.

He stood in the doorway and watched them all, together and peaceful, and just let himself be happy.

And then Scorpius held out his hand and beckoned him to join the gathering, and he did, taking his place beside him in front of the fireplace.

“I caught a chill outside,” Scorpius admitted. “This feels nice.”

Albus wrapped his arm around Scorpius and took a moment to appreciate that he could do this now in front of his family.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” said Albus. “And that everything is okay.”

“I am too,” said Scorpius. “But I need to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

“I wasn’t squeezing that glass,” said Scorpius. “I wasn’t putting any pressure on it.”

Albus looked at him, mildly concerned.

“We know you can do magic without really trying,” said Albus.

“But I was trying before. I was trying to accomplish something,” said Scorpius. “This time I wasn’t.”

Albus furrowed his brow.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s just... stay aware. And try not to worry - that was pretty stressful.”

“I’m glad it’s over,” said Scorpius. “Can I give you your Christmas present now?”

“I can’t give you yours,” said Albus.

“Oh.”

“Because I decided that it’s time we go on a proper date,” said Albus. “I knew this whole hiding situation would be over soon, so I want to do something normal. I got us tickets to go see the Holyhead Harpies play Puddlemere United next week, and since it’s an early match, we can go to dinner afterward.”

Scorpius smiled warmly and took his hand. “That sounds great.”

“Doesn’t it? Something _normal_.”

Scorpius just smiled at him, stupidly, for a long moment, and Albus didn’t care if anyone saw.

“I got you something too.”

Scorpius dug into his pocket and pulled out a small box, which he handed over.

“I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to keep you safe,” said Scorpius as Albus unwrapped it. “And I mean, I don’t believe in these things, but I went looking for a protective amulet, and I found this.”

Albus tipped the amulet into his hand and turned it over.

“Did you know the scorpion is a symbol of protection in Egypt?”

Albus laughed as he held the amber up to the light.

“Is it really?”

“Yes,” Scorpius said. “The wizard I met said it had a powerful protective charm, and I don’t know if that’s true, but I’d thank you to at least wear it during Quidditch matches from now on.”

Albus laughed and slipped the cord around his neck.

“I love it,” he said. “I really do. I promise I’ll wear it.”

“Thank you.”

Albus took Scorpius’ hand again and held it tight in both of his. He looked around at his family and caught his father’s eye. Harry smiled at him and gave him an approving nod.

Albus, content, sank into Scorpius’ shoulder and thought that, even though it wasn’t perfect, this was the best Christmas of his young life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. It's confession time.
> 
> I don't have much more that I intended to write after this chapter. I'd never really intended to write this much at all, but it's been so much fun. I've got a couple more chapters in the tank, but after that, I'm not so sure.
> 
> So here are the options -
> 
> 1\. I can continue writing some fluff until I've run out of fluff to write.
> 
> 2\. I can create some uncomfortable drama at Hogwarts.
> 
> 3\. We can go on a second arc adventure together (all tied in - a continuation) that could get really dramatic, but we'd be offroading. 
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> xoxo  
> SP


	12. Out

**Part 2**

Christmas Day was a touchy affair around the Weasley home, Albus had learned, as there was a fifty percent chance his grandmother would dissolve into tears about his Uncle Fred. If that were to happen, Albus knew the rest of the family would be somber and possibly cry as well, so he resolved to be as upbeat and happy as he could, since Harry had insisted, after the success of Christmas Eve, that Draco and Scorpius join them again.

Ever-cautious, Harry had sent an owl ahead the night before to Molly, warning her that he’d be showing up with Draco and Albus’ boyfriend, which he underlined three times to make his point clear. Albus thought this was excessive, but wasn’t too concerned.

So when lunchtime came around and Draco and Scorpius reappeared, he was elated to be simply having a normal Christmas with his boyfriend. And his boyfriend’s father. Who his father had hated and their age.

Nothing was perfect.

They apparated to the Weasley home just after noon and landed outside in the grass. Albus, Lily, and James raced to the front door as they always did, while Scorpius, Draco and the others took their time.

“Thank you,” said Draco to Harry and Ginny quietly as Scorpius laughed at the others. “Including us... I know it means a great deal to Scorpius. He’s never had much by way of family.”

“Of course,” said Ginny. “We’re really glad we’re getting to know him better. After that adventure with the time-turner -”

Harry groaned.

“We realized he was going to be a part of Albus’ life.”

“And I’m glad he is,” admitted Draco. “But you also could have included him and not included me, and that would have made perfect sense. So I also want to thank you for having us both.”

“Let’s just leave the past where it belongs,” said Harry.

The high-pitched, excited screams of Molly Weasley as she embraced her grandchildren could be heard and Harry knew they’d reached the front door.

* * *

 

“Grandma,” said Albus. “This is Scorpius.”

The Weasley kitchen was a mess as usual, but Albus loved it. The house was covered in sweets and food for everyone to graze upon, and his entire family was present and accounted for.

“Hello,” said Scorpius. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Molly embraced him as if he were one of her own grandchildren, patting him on the back.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

Albus could tell from the look on Scorpius’ face that he was very touched. Ginny came in and intercepted her mother, kissing her on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, mum,” she said. “I see you’ve met Scorpius.”

“Indeed, I have,” Molly replied, and reached out to pinch Scorpius’ cheek. He wrinkled his nose. “Such a handsome young man.”

Albus folded his arms and leaned back on the wall, smiling, until Draco entered too.

“Mrs. Weasley,” he said with a slight bow. Molly’s eyes narrowed a bit, but she managed a smile.

“Draco. How are you?”

“I’m well,” he said. “And you haven’t aged a day.”

Molly pursed her lips, not buying the flattery. Draco handed her a bouquet of flowers instead.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said. “For being a prat as a child.”

Scorpius, eyes raised, looked between them. He knew how much his father regretted his actions when he was at Hogwarts, and how much his parents had influenced and controlled him. He had said the previous night that no amount of apology would ever make up for what he’d done and that he deserved much less than the Potters’ and Weasleys’ forgiveness.

So when Molly Weasley took his gift and offered him a hug, and when Arthur Weasley shook Draco’s hand, Scorpius and Albus both breathed a sigh of relief.

Scorpius had never seen this kind of family interaction before. When Albus led him into the living room and began introducing him to all of his family members - the ones he’d heard so much about - he knew he was talking to legends, but they were also the people that Albus had grown up around, and the people that loved him.

Bill and Charlie were warm and welcoming, and Fleur - beautiful and somewhat aloof - gave him a warm smile that made him blush. Albus brought him to George and Percy, who were into the mead a bit early, and Albus handed him one of the drinks. He took him around the house and showed him the family photos - some with George in them and some without, and listened to stories about family trips and funny tales of mishaps.

“Bill got so drunk that night that Fleur wouldn’t talk to him the next day,” said Albus, pointing to a photo of the family in front of the Eiffel Tower. “I was only about seven but I thought it was hilarious.”

“I can’t believe you’ve had your entire family like this your whole life,” said Scorpius, looking around. They were on the stairs, and he looked down as Hermione and Fleur started laughing at something Hugo was telling them, and as Arthur began passing around a tray of cookies.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I didn’t have any of that,” said Scorpius. He sat down on the step and watched them all below, both longing and glad that he was there - glad that Albus had enjoyed what he never had. “It was always just my parents and me - and now just my father. My grandparents visited about once a year, and then when they died, we moved into that massive house.”

“I can’t imagine that,” said Albus. He sat down beside Scorpius. “I saw them all the time - there was always someone around. It was actually kind of irritating sometimes. I didn’t really fit in after a while.”

“Still,” said Scorpius. “I would have given anything to have my family around. Or, not  _my_  family. My relations are pretty awful. But to have this...”

Albus watched as Draco sat down in an armchair next to George.

“I guess it’s pretty good,” said Albus with a smile.

“Pretty good? It’s fantastic. You should know what you have,” said Scorpius.

“Well,” said Albus. “You’re family to me, so you can be a part of my family too.”

Scorpius gave him a sad smile. He wasn’t sure that, as a Malfoy, he’d ever fit in with the Potters and Weasleys, but it was a start.

“Albus!”

Ginny called up to them and motioned for both boys to come down. When they reached the living room, Albus realized that Molly was handing out presents, and stepped forward to receive his sixteenth Weasley family sweater.

So when she handed him two, he was confused.

“What’s this?”

Molly pointed at Scorpius.

“Ginny told me about Scorpius, and I had the suspicion we might be seeing him for Christmas this year,” said Molly. “I already had one for him. And I know that Draco helped save both your lives a few years ago, and that your fathers have a... kind of friendship. So I made these.”

Albus handed Scorpius his package and watched as he unrolled a dark blue sweater with a gray ‘S’ knitted into the chest.

“Oh, wow.”

Scorpius looked at Albus, his expression earnest and touched, and Albus reached over and ran his hand across his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Molly gave Scorpius a warm smile and then turned to Draco, pulling another package out from under the nearby tree.

“This one is for you,” she said. “Because even though you were a ‘prat’ as a child, like you said, you’ve been a great help to my family.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arm around Ginny.

“So today, if you want, you get to be a Weasley.”

She handed over a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Draco took it slowly, as if he was unsure of the package’s safety, and placed it in his lap.

“Why?”

Molly gave him the same sad smile she’d given Scorpius and reached down to place a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Draco looked at her as if he still didn’t believe her, but when he ripped open his package and saw a dark green sweater with a gray ‘D’ staring back at him, Scorpius almost thought he saw tears in his father’s eyes.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

And then, to Scorpius’ great surprise, his father stood from the couch and there, right in front of everyone, unbuttoned his shirt. He stripped down to the undershirt he always wore, then shook out his Weasley sweater and pulled it on.

With the most genuine smile Scorpius had seen from him in years, Draco looked to his son, held out his hands and asked -

“What do you think?”

“Looks great, dad,” said Scorpius with a thumbs-up before taking his own sweater off - a momentary distraction for Albus - and pulled on his own sweater.

“Good?”

“Very nice,” said Albus. He wrapped an arm around Scorpius and smiled, as everyone else followed suit and pulled on their Weasley sweaters. Fleur pulled it on over her dress, and Victoire laughed as Teddy morphed his hair to match the bright red of his sweater.

“He’s trying really hard,” said Scorpius.

“It’s good,” said Albus. “I’m glad he’s here. I’m glad  _you’re_  here.”

“It’s a start,” said Scorpius.

“It’s a start,” agreed Albus.

* * *

 

A few days later, Albus stepped out of the fireplace at 6:00 pm as planned. Given the circumstances, he was unnecessarily nervous. He’d gone to Quidditch matches with Scorpius before - at Hogwarts - and they’d had plenty of meals together, but this was the first time they were going on a  _date_. Albus had never actually been on a  _date_  before, and his fears were only slightly assuaged by his agreement with Scorpius that they would alternate planning dates.

So when he stepped out of the fireplace to be confronted with Draco Malfoy seated before the fireplace in an armchair, Albus was a bit taken aback.

“Scorpius will be down in a minute,” said Draco. “He was out flying earlier and got muddy. Said he had to clean up.”

“Not really necessary,” said Albus. “The stadium is in the woods anyway.”

“Regardless, he’ll be down in a few minutes.” Draco gestured to the chair next to his own - the one Albus assumed was reserved for Scorpius and their fireside talks - “Have a seat.”

Albus looked at the doorway for a second, and Draco laughed. “I don’t bite.”

Albus cautiously took a seat.

Draco pointed to the painting above the mantle, and Albus looked up to see Astoria Malfoy staring down at him. He’d only met her a few times, and only for a few moments, before she passed. Her painting was silent, but smiled down at them, looking directly at Albus.

“I think Astoria would have liked you,” Draco admitted, taking a drink from his firewhiskey. Albus noticed that he had a book in his lap - he’d clearly been waiting.

“I hope she would have,” said Albus. “I only met her on the way to and from Hogwarts a couple of times, but Scorpius tells me stories.”

“He’s so much like her,” said Draco. “Scorpius is an uncommonly kind person, just like Astoria.”

“You must miss her terribly.”

“I do,” said Draco. “But my son is a great comfort.”

Albus nodded. He knew how Scorpius worried about his father, and could imagine that he did everything he could to ease his loneliness.

“Please, don’t hurt him, Albus.”

Albus looked at Draco, who didn’t look back for a long moment, and when he did, there was a peculiar kind of pain in his eyes.

“It’s very difficult knowing someone else has responsibility for the feelings of the only family you have,” confessed Draco. “And I know that Scorpius cares a great deal for you.”

Albus weighed his words carefully before speaking.

“I love your son, Mr. Malfoy,” said Albus. “I’m not going to hurt him.”

Draco gave him a small smile and nodded.

“That’s of some comfort.”

“Sorry!”

Albus turned around to see Scorpius slide into the room in his socks, his shoes dangling from his hands, a grin on his face.

“Sorry, I got muddy and I stayed out so long, but I was in that little deserted paddock over the ridge and there was this beautiful herd of deer,” said Scorpius as he pulled on his shoes. “Anyway, I’m ready to go when you are, but listen – those deer -”

If Draco had any doubts about whether or not Albus Potter loved his son, they were put to rest by the way he smiled at Scorpius while he ranted.

* * *

 

Without the ability to apparate, Albus and Scorpius had to use the Floo network to get to the Quidditch arena. Puddlemere United’s stadium was in the middle of the forest, and witches and wizards used the fireplace in an old cabin to get to and from the games. Albus and Scorpius laughed merrily as they walked up the path with the rest of the stragglers toward the game.

“I really thought my grandfather was going to have a heart attack when your dad put on the sweater,” said Albus. “I think he’s the only one still struggling to adjust.”

“Frankly, the whole ordeal has gone better than I expected,” said Scorpius. It had been a long time since Albus had seen him so at ease, and he found it made him extraordinarily happy.

“Now we just have to deal with the weirdness at school.”

“We’ll sit the boys down and talk to them when we get back,” said Scorpius. “Just have to watch ourselves and not make it uncomfortable for them. We have to approach it carefully.”

“That’ll be difficult. That disheveled look when you wake up really works for you.”

“Well, I try,” said Scorpius. Even in the dark, Albus could see he was blushing.

They entered the stadium hand-in-hand, and Albus consulted their tickets. First row, third level, midfield - exactly where they wanted to be.

“These are great,” said Scorpius when the found their seats.

“Thank my mum. She gets the best tickets. But she also made me work for them.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. It’s always like that. Something about teaching us ‘responsibility’.” Albus shrugged.

“That’s really sweet,” said Scorpius.

“I try.”

The game started with cheers and screams, and as the players rose from the ground, flash bulbs of journalists and amateurs alike went off to capture the moment. Albus, knowing Scorpius would soon be lost in the game, seized the opportunity to give him a quick kiss before they stood to cheer with the rest of the crowd.

* * *

 

Albus was elated after the Holyhead Harpies’ victory and struggled to keep his excitement in long after the game was over.

“But did you see that pass -”

“I saw all the passes,” said Scorpius begrudgingly. “I was there too.”

“But it was  _so good_.”

Albus knew that Scorpius was a Puddlemere United fan. Boyfriend or not - he was still going to gloat.

They stepped into the Malfoy Manor’s sitting room and found it empty and the lanterns lining the walls turned low.

“I think dad’s asleep,” said Scorpius. He walked to the doorway and looked around. “The last thing he does is lower the lights.”

“Then give me the tour?”

“Well, this is clearly the sitting room,” said Scorpius. “Full of useless artifacts and my father’s desk.”

“I figured that part out,” said Albus, taking off into the house. It was dark and cavernous but not at all like Scorpius had described it before. Instead of cold gray and black metal, the manor was warm and almost friendly.

“This must be much better than before,” said Albus.

“Absolutely.”

Scorpius grabbed his hand and pulled him down a long hallway, which ended in a pair of large oak doors. He opened them carefully and quietly, and Albus saw beyond it a row of books.

“Wow,” muttered Albus as he stepped into the fabled Malfoy library. “No wonder you’re such a geek.”

“Hey, you liked  _Dorian Gray_  just as much as I did.”

“That’s debatable,” replied Albus. The room was huge and had a ladder on each wall to reach the top shelves. Amongst the books was a large, arched window that let in the moonlight from outside.

“And this is how I managed to go blind before turning twenty,” said Scorpius. “Reading in here after my bedtime.”

Albus ran his fingers across the spines of the books. “I would have too, probably.”

Scorpius watched as he moved around the room, looking at all of the tomes his family had collected over the ages.

“This library was my Grandmother Narcissa’s pride and joy,” said Scorpius. “Honestly, it was the only thing we ever had in common. It was the only thing I could ever really respect about her.”

“She saved my dad’s life,” said Albus. He turned and leaned back against the shelves.

“What?”

“It’s not in the history books,” said Albus. “I don’t think she wanted to discuss it, but she was there when Voldemort tried to kill my father and she lied and told him my dad was dead.”

“I never knew that.”

“I doubt she wanted to talk about it,” said Albus. “The way dad tells it, it wasn’t really a Malfoy point of pride.”

Scorpius shook his head, walking over to where Albus stood. “I can’t believe she never mentioned it.”

Albus shrugged. “A lot of strange things happened then.”

“I’m glad she did, though. She was probably risking herself when she did it,” said Scorpius. “And even though she’d probably be pretty unhappy with me right now, if she hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t be here.”

Albus smiled and pulled Scorpius closer. “I think things just work out the way they’re supposed to.”

Scorpius smiled and kissed him, holding him back against the books. He tasted like the coffee and pastries from their post-game dinner in London, and Scorpius pulled away and smiled.

“What?” Albus asked.

“Nothing.” Scorpius shook his head, grinning. “I’m just very, very happy.”

“Me too,” said Albus. He reached up and took Scorpius’ glasses carefully from his face and set them on one of the shelves.

“That’s not fair. Now I can’t see,” said Scorpius with a sigh.

“You don’t need to,” replied Albus before kissing him again, long and slow. Scorpius took one of his hands and held it tight, kissing him back until Albus started down his neck.

Scorpius only had a moment to close his eyes and sink into the sensation before a crackling sound and a tingling up his arm broke his reverie.

“No! No,” said Scorpius, pushing himself away from Albus. Sparks were flying from his fingertips and he had to shake his hands for several seconds before it stopped, and he stared at his hands in disbelief.

Albus stared at Scorpius as he calmed down with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Do I take that as a compliment?” asked Albus. He turned his hand against the shelf behind him so Scorpius couldn’t see the tiny burns dotting his palm.

* * *

 

Ginny forced Albus to eat an extra serving of pancakes the next morning with the claim that he was “looking too peckish to go back to Quidditch,” and Albus was stuffed by the time Harry walked in with the morning’s  _Prophet_.

“I see the Harpies won,” said Harry, giving Ginny a kiss as he did every morning.

“Spectacularly,” Albus confirmed, leaning back in his chair to drink his coffee.

“And I see you two had a good time.”

“We did. The game was great - what?”

Harry threw the paper down in front of Albus and there, right on the front page, was a photo of Scorpius and Albus kissing in their seats. They were easy to spot - everyone else was cheering, but Scorpius had an arm around Albus’ shoulders, and they were looking at each other, kissing and laughing.

And above the photo in large, bold print was the headline that would haunt Albus for days.

_Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy Spotted Snogging at Harpies/Puddlemere Match._

“Oh, fu-”

“I sincerely hope you told your friends about this,” said Ginny. “Because they all know now.”

Albus, defeated, rested his head on the table in frustration.

“It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it?”

Ginny leaned over and kissed him on the temple.

“Welcome to adulthood.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. So I've got a longer story planned and I hope you'll all stay with me for it! I'm having entirely too much fun to stop, but with work ramping up right now the updates will be slower. It's going to be a lot of fun, so keep letting me know what you think!
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP


	13. Midnight

The Malfoy Manor was resplendent in enchanted icicles, non-melting ice sculptures, and large, detailed snowflakes that fell from the atrium ceiling without ever hitting the ground.

Buckets of iced champagne bottles lined the kitchen, and a hundred sparkling flutes were laid out on the preparation island, each with a small strawberry wedged onto the rim.

“You’ve really outdone yourselves,” said Scorpius, entering the kitchen as he buttoned his vest.

“Thank you, Master Scorpius!” said Pokey excitedly. “For the first party Master Draco has thrown in such a long time, Pokey and Pike wanted to make sure everything was perfect.”

Pike nodded from behind the large, elaborate, five-tiered cake she was finishing. It was ice blue and covered in glittering, golden frosting.

“That looks lovely, Pike.”

Pike, quiet as ever, just smiled in thanks.

“Scorpius!”

Scorpius sighed as Draco’s voice echoed throughout the house. He grabbed one of the brownies from a nearby tray and grinned as Pokey feigned a protest.

“Coming!”

Scorpius, robes over his shoulder, sauntered into the sitting room which was decked out in winter garland and opened to the rear courtyard, where the fountain had been frozen over in a spectacular still geyser. Draco was standing in front of the window, watching the sun set over the hills behind the manor.

“Is everything set?”

“Near as I can tell,” said Scorpius through a mouth full of brownie. “Still not sure why you decided to do this now.”

Draco took a thoughtful sip of his brandy.

“I want people to see that the Malfoys aren’t what they used to be,” said Draco. “I don’t want you to have to live with the suspicion I have since Hogwarts and the war. I deserved it, but you don’t.”

“That’s...” Scorpius struggled to find the right word, wiping the chocolate frosting from around his mouth. “Well, thank you.”

Draco gave Scorpius a sad smile.

“I need to know that when I’m gone, you’ll live a good life,” said Draco.

“You’re not going to be gone for a long time,” Scorpius said firmly.

“True, but there’s no time like the present.”

The doorbell chime echoed throughout the house, and Scorpius smiled.

“No time like the present.”

* * *

 

The Malfoy Manor was packed with families from across the wizarding community of the United Kingdom - some of them Albus knew, and others he’d never even heard of. Whether or not he could identify all of those faces didn’t seem to matter - even if he didn’t know them, everyone certainly seemed to know who he was, and he was immediately uncomfortable with all the attention.

Scorpius saw Albus cornered by two witches and watched with amusement as he tried to get away. They were clearly trying to impose some unwelcome advice upon him, and Albus was trying excuse himself politely to no avail. After watching him for several minutes, Scorpius decided it was his duty to extract him from the situation, so he walked over, grabbing an extra flute of champagne along the way as he passed Pike, and wrapped his arm around Albus’ shoulders.

“Hello, ladies.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” they said in unison. Scorpius realized they were twins.

“This is Hestia and Flora Carrow.”

“Pleased to see you again,” said Scorpius with a bow. He’d crossed paths with the Carrow sisters only a few times in his life. “I trust you’re enjoying yourselves?”

“Yes,” said one of them. “The party is quite lovely.”

“Though some of the invitees are... less than ideal,” the other said, glancing at Albus.

“While I regret that you find the guest list to be  _less than ideal_ ,” said Scorpius, turning on the cold, Malfoy cordiality that sent less-than-pleasant shivers down Albus’ spine, “I can assure you that the Malfoy family is quite pleased to have everyone here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to greet some of our more open-minded guests.”

Scorpius seized Albus’ hand and pulled him along.

“Why am I less than ideal?” Albus asked as they entered the atrium where most of the guests were milling about. “Is it because of us?”

“No,” said Scorpius coldly. “It’s because you’re Harry Potter’s son and he’s a blood traitor.”

“Oh,” said Albus. “Good to know it has nothing to do with who I am as a person.”

“Just don’t worry about it,” said Scorpius.

Across the room, Albus spotted his sister talking to Neville Longbottom excitedly. He tugged at Scorpius’ hand and pulled him through the party towards them.

“We just received a new batch of Mandrakes,” Neville said. “I wasn’t expecting them so soon, but I think we’ll have fun with them when we first get back.”

“Can I come down to the greenhouse and see them when we get back?” Lilly grinned eagerly.

“Of course. I’ll be back the day before you are. I’ll make sure I set one aside and it’ll be yours.”

Lilly squealed with delight.

“You can’t be giving the Potters preferential treatment, Professor Longbottom,” said Scorpius.

“I’ll always give the Potters preferential treatment,” said Neville with a wink. “I saw the  _Prophet_  the other day.”

“Of course you did,” muttered Albus.

“I have to say I was surprised,” Neville said, folding his arms.

“Finally!” said Albus, jumping. “Finally, someone who is actually surprised!”

“I guess it makes sense,” said Neville. “You’ve been inseparable since you were first years. Besides, this is great karmic payback for your fathers.”

Scorpius laughed and Albus shook his head.

“Scorpius!”

Ainsley appeared from behind Scorpius and threw her arms around her cousin’s neck. Scorpius hugged her back, lifting her off the ground for a brief moment.

“It’s so good to see you,” she whispered in his ear. “Mother has been horrible.”

As Scorpius set her down, he saw Daphne Greengrass emerge from the crowd. Albus stepped closer to him. It was like watching a colder version of Astoria walk towards them, and Scorpius swallowed hard.

He hadn’t seen his aunt since his mother’s funeral.

“Aunt Daphne,” Scorpius said. “I’m so glad that you and Ainsley could make it tonight.”

Daphne pursed her lips and looked at Ainsley, who dutifully took her place at her mother’s side.

“You look well, Scorpius.”

Albus saw Scorpius’ jaw tighten and placed his hand between Scorpius’ shoulder blades to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

“And you.”

“I see your father has invited everyone,” she said, looking around the crowd. Neville folded his arms and leaned back against the nearby marble column. Daphne’s eyes slid over Albus, Neville, and Lily. “Though I think the guest list might have been different if your mother were alive.”

Ainsley looked down at her shoes, embarrassed.

“You know, Scorpius,” Daphne began, “You are the last Malfoy - the last of a proud and strong bloodline. It’s your duty to act as such.”

Daphne didn’t bother to disguise her disapproving glance at Albus, who stood up a bit straighter.

“It’s my duty to be happy,” said Scorpius. “As my mother would have wanted.”

“When you come to your senses, let me know,” said Daphne. “I’m living in London now, working with other respectable witches and wizards to strengthen our ranks.”

“Yes,” said Scorpius. “I’ll let you know if I become an entirely different person.”

Daphne scowled and shook her head before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Ainsley, bound to follow her, glanced back at Scorpius and mouthed ‘sorry’ before disappearing with her.

“Charming,” said Lily.

“Well, we were only able to put the Death Eaters in Azkaban,” said Neville. “Couldn’t lock people away for being nutters.”

“Damn shame,” said Albus.

“I’m so sorry,” said Scorpius, shaking his head. “My aunt, she’s -”

“Not yours to apologize for,” said Lily. "Don’t worry about it."

Scorpius smiled down at her. It was nice to be finally surrounded by those who understood.

* * *

 

Draco invited the congregation out onto the back lawn for a midnight fireworks show. Scorpius, who had been quite happy to find a seat with Albus and Rose near the fireplace, was reluctant to go back out in the cold.

“Must we?” he asked them, looking longingly at the fire.

“I think so,” said Rose, equally unhappy. The three sighed and bundled themselves in their scarves and coats before going outside. Outside, they found Harry, Lily, James, Lily, Hermione and Ron huddled together and seated around one of the fire pits.

“Can we join you?” said Scorpius, his arms around both Albus and Rose for warmth.

Harry looked up at the trio and smiled. “Of course. It’s your house.”

The three sat down on the ground near the fire pit and huddled together. Ginny leaned forward in her seat to where Albus sat and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek.

“Ugh, mum!” Albus said, but gave her a sarcastic grin. Scorpius smiled at them holding his hands up to the fire.

“It’s strange being back here,” said Hermione. “It looks so much the same but it’s so different.”

Scorpius saw Hermione looking around, clearly uncomfortable. Rose reached up and took her mother’s hand, and Hermione accepted it gratefully.

“I’m sorry you have such bad memories of this place,” said Scorpius. “I only know a bit of what happened, but... I’m sorry.”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Scorpius. And it was a long time ago.”

“Thank you for coming, though,” said Scorpius. “Despite it all.”

“I have to admit it’s odd being here on a social occasion,” said Harry. “But given the circumstances, it’s quite nice.”

Harry patted Scorpius on the shoulder, which Albus took as the best complement the Malfoys were going to get that evening.

Draco approached, his long black coat trailing in the considerable wind.

“Less than ideal conditions,” he said and looked to Scorpius, standing beside the group. “Are you ready?”

Scorpius nodded and Draco looked at his watch, waited a moment, and raised his hand to someone across the courtyard. Just beyond the house on the sprawling, manicured lawn erupted fireworks, counting down from the number ten.

The guests - all of them lining the walls and the fountain, counted down from ten to ring in the new year, and Lily sat down next to Albus and took his hand. He, Scorpius, Rose and Lily all huddled together counting down, and again, Albus was overwhelmed with the comfort offered by those around him.

When the countdown reached one, cheers erupted. Scorpius pulled Albus closer and kissed him, smiling the whole time and letting his hand travel over Albus' side and shoulders. When they broke apart, he pressed his forehead to Albus’, still grinning.

“Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year.”

Draco, who had taken a seat next to Harry and Ginny, leaned over to the pair after they exchanged New Years’ kisses.

“I think we’re going to have to get accustomed to spending holidays together,” he said, nodding to Lily, Albus, Scorpius and Rose in front of them, all laughing, still huddled together.

Harry shrugged as Ginny leaned into his side for warmth. “I can live with that.”

“Happy New Year, Potters,” said Draco, smiling, as he stood to make his rounds wishing everyone well before they left.

Albus and Scorpius kissed again after the fireworks were done, and the fire in front of flared just a bit more than it should have.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, they're so happy.
> 
> That can't last long.


	14. Agreement

If the stares on Platform 9 3/4 were bad, then the attention that Scorpius and Albus got in the Slytherin common room were horrendous. They walked in with their rucksacks over their shoulders, laughing at a stupid joke James had brought home from work, and a hush fell over the common room.

Scorpius looked around at the faces - so many faces - and felt the heat rising up the back of his neck. The first year girls whispered behind their hands and Scorpius looked down, adjusting Freya’s carrier in his hands.

“Albus! Scorpius!”

Maggie appeared out of one of the corridors and strode towards them defiantly, clearly set on creating a precedent for how they would be treated. She wrapped an arm around each of them and pulled them into a hug.

“You both had a good break, right?” Her voice was bright and cheery.

“Yeah,” Albus said, his voice carrying across the quiet room. Scorpius looked at him and marveled at the way he kept calm with  _so many people staring_.

“We had a great time. Our families had Christmas together.”

Whispers rose from around the room, and Albus reached out and took Scorpius’ hand roughly, making it clear that there was no mistake on the  _Prophet’s_  part.

“That must have been great. I got a new broom for Christmas, so I can’t wait to get back out on the pitch.”

“I bet!” Albus replied. Scorpius squeezed his hand.

“I can’t wait to see you use it against Ravenclaw in a couple weeks,” said Scorpius.

Scorpius wiggled his fingers. The same tingling feeling that had accompanied the sparks in the library was growing in his free hand, and he tried to shake it off.

The room was still quiet, and Maggie looked around.

“Don’t you all have something better to do?” she snapped.

Everyone around the room slowly went back to their games and conversations, still glancing at Scorpius and Albus.

“Thanks,” muttered Scorpius. “It’s been awkward enough.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Maggie said. “That photo of you two in the paper was adorable.”

Albus rolled his eyes and noticed that none of their roommates were in the common room.

“Where are the guys?”

“They are waiting for you,” said Maggie. “In your dorm. They asked me to tell you if I saw you.”

“Lovely,” said Scorpius. “We’re about to be given a ‘talking to.’”

“That’s what it sounded like from Duncan,” said Maggie regretfully. “I’ll see you in the morning if you survive it.”

“Great.”

Albus adjusted his rucksack again and nodded to Scorpius, and together they walked down the hall to the dorm.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” replied Scorpius, still trying to shake the tingling from his fingers. He pushed open the door to their dorm and found Flint, Farley, and Pucey standing in a circle. They turned and looked at Albus and Scorpius and watched in unison as they both dropped their rucksacks on their respective beds, and Scorpius set Freya free.

“Sit,” said Farley, pointing at Albus’ trunk in front of him. Albus and Scorpius looked at each other, realizing their options were relatively limited since they had been the ones hiding something from their roommates, and sat down on either end of Albus’ trunk.

“Firstly,” said Flint, “you should know that we’ve been talking.”

“That much is obvious,” said Scorpius, cleaning his glasses on the tail of his shirt and squinting at Flint.

“Also, you should know that we’re totally fine with you guys being boyfriends or whatever,” said Pucey.

“But there need to be some rules,” added Farley.

Albus rolled his eyes and leaned back on the footboard of his bed, stretching his legs out.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’d like to think we’ve got a good thing going here. We pretty much have since first year,” said Flint. The others murmured in agreement.

“So let’s keep try to maintain the status quo?” Scorpius put his glasses back on and blinked at them a few times.

“Well,” said Pucey, “I just don’t want to walk in on you two -”

“No,” interrupted Albus. “We already talked about this. That’s not going to be a problem.”

Scorpius glanced at Albus with a sly smile, thinking about the Room of Requirement.

“Can we all just... stay normal here?” Scorpius looked at each of his roommates desperately. “It hasn’t been an issue for this long; it doesn’t need to be an issue now.”

“What do you mean ‘for this long?’ How long have you two been together?”

Albus looked at Scorpius and shrugged. “Since just before summer started last year?”

Flint and Farley stared open-mouthed in shock while Pucey threw his head back and laughed.

“See, lads? I told you - they haven’t been tearing each other’s clothes off all year, so it’s fine.”

“This has been going on since last year?” said Flint. “And neither of you said anything?”

“That is a very long story,” said Scorpius.

“Scorpius thought his dad was going to be angry, but then we found out both our families had known for a long time and we had a good cry and laugh about it over Christmas cake,” said Albus.

“Okay, so not that long," said Scorpius meekly.

“Just keep the PDA to a minimum mate,” said Farley, sauntering over to his bed. “I might vomit if you don’t.”

Scorpius looked at him, deeply offended.

“Not like that,” said Farley. “Happy couples piss me off.”

“Still mad about Maggie?” Albus asked Flint carefully.

Flint shrugged, uncaring.

“Who knows anymore.”

* * *

 

Maggie’s broom was faster than Albus’, and he was wondering if he could use her last name to get his father to buy him an updated one – Harry wouldn’t _dare_ let Goyle’s daughter have a broom better than his son’s.

“Aha!” Maggie cried with glee, making another artful catch. “This is great! We’re going to slaughter Ravenclaw.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Flint. “Al needs to get back on his game again. Did you go flying once over the break?”

“We’ve only been back a week. I was a little busy,” said Albus. “Gathering the courage to come out to your family takes a lot of energy.”

“Noted,” said Flint. “Let’s do some speed drills to get you back at it.”

Albus agreed and took off with Maggie and Flint, but their flight was short-lived. Professor Slughorn had come onto the field, relying heavily upon his cane, and flagged the team down.

Albus’ feet hit the ground and he swung his broom over his shoulder, brushing his hair back out of his eyes.

“Potter, come with me,” said Slughorn, motioning him to come forward. Albus looked around, confused.

“What did I do this time?”

“Nothing, my boy, but you need to come with me.”

Flint took Albus’ broom and waved him off, and Albus followed Professor Slughorn off the pitch.

“What’s going on? Did I fail that potions test? Because I studied almost all of Tuesday night -”

“No,” said Slughorn, shaking his head and breathing hard with the exertion of trudging through the grass and mud. The sky looked angry and in the cold, Albus wondered if they were due for another snowstorm.

“Malfoy was in a fight.”

Albus chuckled. “Scorpius? In a fight?”

Slughorn shot him a look that clearly said this wasn’t a joke.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. He injured two Gryffindors.”

Albus’ heart dropped.

“Shit,” said Albus. “Sorry. Where is he?”

“In the Headmistress’ office. You best get up there.”

“Thanks for getting me, Professor.”

Albus took off at a run up to the castle and jogged through the corridors until he got to the staircase to McGonagall’s office. When he got to the top, he found two Gryffindor boys he didn’t know sitting on either side of the door - one holding his arm with a bleeding split lip, and the other with a slash across his forehead, rubbing his ankle and groaning.

“What happened?”

The one with the bleeding forehead looked up at Albus with narrow eyes.

“Ask your boyfriend,” he spat.

Albus sighed and knocked on the door softly. He could hear a heated argument on the other side.

“I didn’t mean to, Professor.”

“It doesn’t matter, Malfoy,” came McGonagall’s voice. “Is that you, Potter?”

“Yes, professor.”

“Come in.”

Albus pushed the door open slowly and peered inside. Scorpius’ back was to him and he was hunched over in his seat as Professor McGonagall stood over him imposingly.

“Professor Slughorn came to get me,” he told Professor McGonagall.

“Yes. I made it a practice of having a friend escort injured parties to the hospital wing, and I thought you might want to hear this,” said McGonagall, gesturing him forward.

Albus approached Scorpius’ chair and looked down at him. Scorpius kept his head bowed.

“What happened?”

“I was at Dueling Club and we were practicing two on two,” said Scorpius. “And they said some... uncharitable things about you, and me. And they came at Marta and me, and I overreacted.”

“You knocked Cliff unconscious,” said McGonagall, deadpan.

“I’m sorry, professor,” said Scorpius. “It wasn’t my intent.”

McGonagall leaned back on her desk and folded her arms, looking at both of them sternly.

“Some of your fellow students might not be particularly understanding,” she said slowly, clearly choosing her words carefully. “I can’t have you both starting fights.”

“I haven’t done anything,” said Albus. “And Scorp didn’t mean to.”

“I know you haven’t done anything, Potter,” said McGonagall. “But I’m well acquainted with both your mother and father and I see this conversation as a preventative measure. No fighting.”

“Yes, professor,” said Scorpius. He had yet to raise his head, and Albus placed a hand on his back, wanting desperately to be of some comfort.

“I promise I won’t fight anyone unless they try to fight me or Scorpius first,” Albus said bregrudgingly.

“Well, I suppose that’s the most I can ask for from a child of Harry and Ginny Potter. Now take Malfoy to the hospital wing for that eye,” said McGonagall. “I have to have a talk with the two gentlemen outside.”

Scorpius stood up, keeping his face from Albus, who followed behind him, lost.

When they stepped outside, the two Gryffindors were standing and sneered at them as they passed. Albus sneered back and narrowed his eyes.

“Come at either of us again and you’ll have more than just us to deal with,” he threatened. “Between my siblings and cousins I have eyes _everywhere_ , and believe me, you don’t want to cross Rose or Roxanne.”

“Don’t, Al.”

“Listen to your boyfriend,” said the one with the split lip, bitter.

Albus shook his head and followed Scorpius down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, he caught Scorpius’ arm and turned him around. Under his disheveled blonde hair was a black eye and a shallow slash across his cheek. Albus frowned and, instead of taking him straight to the hospital wing, pulled Scorpius into an alcove down the hall from McGonagall’s office and, with hands on both of Scorpius’ shoulders, sat him down on a windowsill.

“What happened?” Albus asked softly, and Scorpius let out a slow breath and hid his face in his hands.

“The lovely gentlemen you met back there said some rather nasty things about you just as we were setting up to duel,” said Scorpius.

“Like what?”

“I’m not repeating it,” said Scorpius firmly. “But we started to duel and they were... aggressive. And I lost control.”

“Like the sparks?”

“Like that, but much bigger. Much... physically hotter. I can’t describe it, Al,” Scorpius looked up at him and his distress was clearer than the black eye. Albus frowned and crouched down in front of him, acutely aware of the mud on his Quidditch boots.

“What’s happening to me?”

Albus shook his head and took both of Scorpius’ hands in his own.

“I have no idea. But I probably would have done the same thing you did if I could.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” said Scorpius. “And they think I was just breaking the dueling form and that I went after them. It all happened so fast that it’s the best explanation, but Albus, I didn’t cast a single spell. Not intentionally.”

“You were angry,” said Albus. “And maybe you’re just really good at wandless magic.”

“Moving some pillows and books is one thing,” said Scorpius. “I threw that kid against a stone wall. He was out cold.”

Albus wiped the blood from under Scorpius’ eye, feeling more helpless than he had in ages.

“I don’t know, Scorp,” he said quietly. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

Scorpius shook his head.

“I don’t think you can.”

Albus sighed and nodded before standing and offering an outstretched arm.

“Let’s get you patched up.”

Scorpius stood, his head still down, and Albus wrapped his arm around Scorpius’ shoulders as they headed for the hospital wing. It was the only thing he could do.

* * *

 

When the snow melted a few months later, Scorpius and Albus took long walks across the grounds whenever possible. Spring was near, and the only time Scorpius felt at ease was when he was outside and away from his classmates.

“I’m going to need to borrow your notes from yesterday when we get back,” said Scorpius one evening as they walked around the Black Lake.

“I thought you had some,” said Albus, picking up a rock and tossing it across the surface of the lake. It skipped three times.

“Yeah, well, I was practicing and it didn’t go well and I got frustrated,” Scorpius muttered.

“And you set them on fire?”

“And I set them on fire.”

Albus nodded. Things like this were happening more frequently, and he was used to covering it up whenever possible. Scorpius refused to talk to any of their professors and insisted that the problem was temporary.

Albus had his doubts but knew better than to try and talk Scorpius into talking about something he wasn’t ready to discuss. They’d agreed to get through the last weeks of school, and then spend part of the summer working on his control.

“I’ll get this straightened out,” said Scorpius. Albus wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

“I’m sure it’s temporary,” Albus agreed. “And you can have my notes.”

“Thanks,” said Scorpius. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Not what you want to hear from your boyfriend. Go on.”

“No! No, it’s good,” said Scorpius. “I was actually wondering if we could take a trip over the summer. My dad said it was okay. Maybe we could head to Spain or Italy or something. I’ve never been to the Amalfi Coast.”

“I don’t think that’s going to fly with my parents,” said Albus. “They’re not going to pay for a trip that isn’t a family vacation.”

“That’s not a problem,” said Scorpius. “Dad doesn’t care. He said he’d give me whatever I needed, and that’s what I was going to ask for as a birthday present next week.”

Albus shook his head and stopped walking.

“I can’t do that,” said Albus. “I can’t have you or your dad pay for us to run off to Italy.”

Scorpius frowned and folded his arms. “Why not?”

“I just can’t,” said Albus. “I’m just not comfortable with it. Remember when we said we’d take turns with this stuff? So it doesn’t get weird?”

“This can be my turn.”

“You’re making it weird.”

“Why is it weird?”

“Because I can’t pay for my half and unless I can, I can’t take a trip like that.”

“Don’t be difficult,” said Scorpius. “The money doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me!”

“I really want to get away for a while,” snapped Scorpius. “Why can’t you just do this for me?”

“It’s not that simple -”

“It  _is_  that simple,” said Scorpius, reaching out and grabbing Albus’ forearm to stop him from turning away.

Albus yelled and leaped back. A perfect handprint was burned into his sleeve, and beneath it was a deep red burn and charred skin. He quickly ripped away the fabric to keep it from touching the wound and stared at it.

“Oh my God,” said Scorpius. “Al, I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” Albus asked, hunched over and protecting the burn from the wind.

“I don’t know! I don’t know, I’m sorry,” Scorpius repeated.

“You didn’t mean to, I know,” said Albus, grimacing. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I _know_.”

Scorpius pulled his wand from his jacket pocket.

“Here, let me help?”

Albus held his hand up and shook his head, taking a deep breath and cringing as a gust came across the lake and hit the burned skin.

“I think I’m better off going to Madam Pomfrey,” said Albus as gently as he could.

“Albus...” Scorpius’ arms dropped to his side. “I didn’t mean...”

“I know,” said Albus, starting to come to his senses. “I’m not mad. I’ve just got to get this taken care of, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll meet you at dinner after. It won’t take long.”

Scorpius nodded slowly, and Albus gave him a quick, cautious kiss on the cheek before heading up the slope to the castle.

Scorpius sat down in the grass where he stood and stared out across the lake. It was getting harder and harder to control whatever this was when he was constantly terrified of himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxo,  
> SP


	15. Summer

Summer was never Albus’ favorite time of the year, but when school ended in June he was happy to go home for the first time. This summer was bound to be far less lonely than the ones before.

With an amicable bond forged between the Potters and the Malfoys, Albus and Scorpius spent nearly every day of the summer together. They alternated spending time at each other’s homes - Albus exploring the Malfoy Manor and Scorpius methodically going through the Potters’ muggle film collection - and found themselves in a quiet, subdued pattern that suited Scorpius’ nerves just fine.

“Just try to set it on fire,” said Albus one afternoon. They were in the woods near the Potter home, and he was stretched lazily out across the base of a fallen tree. He pointed at the stick he’d placed on a nearby rock for what seemed like the millionth time.

“I can’t just do it at will,” said Scorpius.

“Get mad at the stick.”

“The stick didn’t do anything to me.”

Albus sighed and sat up. “Do you want me to throw the stick at you?”

“No.”

Scorpius sat down next to him.

“I don’t know what to do, Al,” he said. “I can’t do anything.”

“You’re here, hanging out with me,” Albus said.

Scorpius knew Albus was trying, but it didn’t help. He’d been breaking things he hadn’t even touched left and right over the past few weeks and had caused an alarm clock in Albus room to explode during a particularly heated snogging session while the house had been empty.

“But I can’t touch you.”

“Yes, you can,” said Albus. He slid closer and took Scorpius hand in his own, but Scorpius didn’t look up. He just kept staring at the ground in front of him, his breathing slow and methodical.

“I could hurt you,” said Scorpius, shaking his head. “The second I get excited or angry... things just go wrong.”

“Have you tried just focusing on what you’re doing? And nothing else?”

“I’ve tried everything I can think of,” said Scorpius. “I’ve looked in every book I can get my hands on. I can meditate, and I’m fine for a while, but then life happens.”

Albus ran his hand between Scorpius’ shoulder blades, leaning into him.

“Maybe it’s a teenage thing? And it’ll pass?”

“Like when my voice cracked like crazy?”

Albus smiled and leaned over so he could see Scorpius’ face.

“I thought that was kind of cute.”

Scorpius smiled and leaned into him. “Two years ago seems like a long time. I don’t know if I’d even recognize myself.”

“I recognize you,” said Albus. “I’d recognize you anywhere.”

“I think it’s time you let your dad teach you some more advanced defense,” said Scorpius. “In case I ever lose it. You need to be able to keep yourself safe from me.”

“Doesn’t that sound a little extreme?”

Scorpius looked at him. Albus was so close and he wanted to kiss him more than anything but was afraid of starting something he couldn’t finish.

“Just do it. For me.”

Albus nodded in agreement and Scorpius closed his eyes, enjoying the nearness for just a moment more before going back to trying to incinerate an innocent stick.

* * *

 

“You’ve got to anticipate your opponent’s next move!” cried Harry as Albus picked himself up off the ground for the fifth time, brushing himself off.

“How am I supposed to anticipate my opponent’s next move while figuring out my next move?” Albus asked.

“Again,” demanded Harry, raising his wand. Albus sighed and stepped one foot back, taking a defensive stance.

Scorpius watched from atop the hood of the car as Albus tried again to disarm Harry. He watched as Harry advanced and Albus blocked furiously, his technique sloppy. He saw the moment when Albus got angry and stopped using only defensive spells and turned the tables, pushing Harry back towards the house, a smile of pride on his face, and he watched as Albus found an opening and disarmed his father, jumping up to catch his wand as it flew through the air and keeping his hand raised in victory.

“See?” said Harry. “I knew you could do it.”

Albus tossed Harry back his wand, and Scorpius watched longingly as he grinned, his confidence renewed, asking for another round.

Scorpius only hoped it was enough.

* * *

 

On a particularly lazy day at the Malfoy Manor, Albus decided it was a good idea for Scorpius to try his luck with water instead of fire. He nagged Scorpius until he put on his swim trunks and Albus sat on the edge of the pool in his shorts while Scorpius looked around.

“I don’t see what this is supposed to accomplish,” said Scorpius.

“Try to splash me,” said Albus. He dipped his hand down and threw water at Scorpius’ face.

“But I can do that with my hands.”

“Yeah, but try to do it with your mind,” said Albus, splashing him again.

Scorpius stood still in the water and stared at it, imagining the surface rising to meet Albus’ face. He concentrated, thinking of the droplets cascading through the air, and thought of how exciting it would be if he could actually, just this once, produce the strange magic on command.

The water went still as he stared at it, and neither of them moved for several minutes until the surface started to wave back and forth in a gentle swell. The wave moved from one end of the pool to the other and back, gaining momentum, cresting over Albus’ knees, and then up his thighs until it died and the water went still again.

“That was great!” cried Albus. “See? You can control it.”

“I wouldn’t call that control,” Scorpius said. “But it’s a start.”

“Give yourself some more credit,” said Albus as Scorpius swam over to him. “That was pretty impressive.”

Albus wanted Scorpius to believe everything would be okay more than anything else. The restraint and pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear. Scorpius had loved being around his friends, and now he looked uncomfortable every minute they were away from either of their houses.

In a rare moment, Scorpius planted one hand on either side of Albus and pulled himself out of the water, soaked, right into Albus’ face.

“I think you should get in,” he said.

“I don’t have a change of clothes,” Albus replied.

“I don’t care.”

In one swift motion, Scorpius had his arms around Albus’ shoulders and pulled him down into the water. Albus yelled and they fell in with a splash - a tangle of arms and legs and hands.

Albus surfaced, laughing as he saw Scorpius’ smile. It was a rare sight these days, and he wasn’t willing to waste his good mood. He plucked some of the wet tendrils of hair from Scorpius’ forehead.

“You ever going to cut that? You’ll have a ponytail like your dad if you don’t.”

“Ugh, don’t say that,” said Scorpius.

“Either way,” said Albus, still grinning. “You’ll still look good.”

Scorpius gave him a skeptical sort of smile - the kind Albus thought was irresistible - so he leaned in and kissed Scorpius intently, pulling him near with purpose, and for the first time in ages Scorpius kissed him back without reservation, digging his hands into Albus’ shoulders as if he needed something to hold onto.

When Albus pulled away to catch his breath, he asked - “How long until your father comes home?”

“At least another couple hours,” said Scorpius, clearly trying to keep himself calm and taking slow, measured breaths.

“Do you want to go upstairs?”

Scorpius’ expression went from excitement to regret quickly, and he looked down, away from Albus.

“It’s okay,” said Albus. Scorpius bowed his head onto Albus’ shoulder and apologized quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Albus. “You’ll get past this.”

He still wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

* * *

 

Scorpius felt guilty when he found out Albus had asked for a quiet family birthday party in July. He knew it was his fault Albus had asked his father to keep their combined celebration to the bare minimum and told him so when he arrived for the party.

“You didn’t have to keep it small for me,” said Scorpius.

“Would you have been comfortable if my dad had invited half the ministry and the entire Weasley family over?”

“No, but -”

“Then it’s fine,” said Albus. “I’d rather have you be comfortable than have a house full of noisy people.”

“That hardly seems fair,” said Scorpius as Albus buttoned his shirt. He was late getting ready.

“It’s my party. Of course it’s fair. I just want you here,” said Albus, and as he moved to leave the room, he pressed a kiss to Scorpius’ temple.

“My dad came with me,” Scorpius said, following. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” said Albus, tucking in his shirt as he walked down the stairs. Harry, Ginny, Lily, Ron, Hermione, Rose, Hugo, and Draco were all seated around the dining room table.

“And he finally appears,” said Harry.

“Sorry,” said Albus. “I got distracted.”

“What were you doing?” Ginny asked.

“I was reading most of the afternoon. Lost track of time,” answered Albus. Scorpius raised his eyebrows.

“Reading?”

“Yeah,” Albus said with a grin as he sidled past Draco to his seat. “I read on my own now. How about that?”

Scorpius smiled. He’d never been quite sure that Albus had enjoyed their reading sessions, but if he’d started picking up books on his own, then maybe he’d won a small victory.

“I don’t understand why we’re having Albus and Dad’s birthday parties now when it’s only _actually_ Albus’ birthday,” said Lily, setting a tray of hamburgers on the table - Harry’s request.

“Because Albus is of age this year, and because I have to work on my birthday,” said Harry. “Which doesn’t seem quite fair either.”

Albus smiled as Scorpius sat down beside him. “You’ll win next year,” said Albus. “I think yours falls on a Saturday.”

Harry gave him a sad smile. “I’m just glad you’re having a better seventeenth birthday than I did.”

Scorpius watched as Albus talked to his family - joking and laughing - and found himself staring at his face as he talked, studying the lines of his nose and mouth as he teased Lily and the way he brushed his hair back while talking to Draco about Quidditch and how he thought they Slytherin team would do this year, and when Albus reached for his hand under the table, he felt guilty - guiltier than he’d felt since he was a child.

“Are you okay?” Albus murmured when no one was looking.

“Yeah,” said Scorpius, forcing a smile he didn’t feel. “I’m fine.”

“This isn’t stressing you out?”

Scorpius sighed, sincerely wishing Albus didn’t have to worry about these things.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Promise.”

Albus nodded, but Scorpius could tell he didn’t quite believe him.

* * *

 

When dinner ended and everyone went home, Scorpius told his father to go ahead - that he’d be along in a few minutes.

“Don’t be too late,” said Draco, who then looked to both Albus and Harry. “Happy Birthday - both of you. And take care of that watch, Al.”

Albus smiled, running his fingers over his parents’ gift - a family rite of passage he’d been waiting for.

“Thank you, Draco,” said Harry. “And thanks for coming by.”

“I’ll always come over to eat your food and drink your liquor,” Draco said with a grin, and Harry laughed.

“Anytime,” said Harry. Draco stepped into the fireplace and disappeared.

Scorpius looked to Albus once Ginny and Harry started cleaning up.

“Can we go for a walk?”

“Sure,” said Albus, confused. He followed Scorpius out the front door as quietly as possible to avoid alerting his parents. He got the impression Scorpius wasn’t interested in an audience.

Scorpius took Albus by the hand out into the dark, past the driveway and to the slope that led down to the forest. He walked until they were out of sight from the windows, and sat down in the damp grass. It was well past ten o’clock, but the air was still hot and sticky from the earlier rain.

Albus, confused, sat down beside Scorpius.

“What’s up?”

Scorpius didn’t say anything. He just took a few deep breaths, then leaned over and kissed Albus, digging his hands into the earth on either side of his chest. Albus let out a small noise of surprise and sank into the grass, letting the raindrops soak through the back of his shirt, pulling Scorpius with him.

Scorpius was careful - he kept his hands in the grass and his body above Albus, not letting them touch more than their mouths, but Albus wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ waist and pulled him closer.

His fingers buried in the damp grass heated up and Scorpius opened his eyes just enough to see the veins inside his wrists developing a dull glow. He grimaced, wishing for just a few more minutes, but when Albus ran his fingers across the back of his neck, he had to pull away.

He looked over as he caught his breath and moved his hand, releasing the scorched blades of grass beneath it.

Albus looked over at his hand and the fading glow in his veins and Scorpius bowed his head onto Albus’ chest.

“I just want you to know that I still love you,” Scorpius said.

Albus gave him a sympathetic, lopsided smile and nodded.

“I know,” he said. “I love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Scorpius just can't catch a break, can he?


	16. Seventh

As a first and second year, Scorpius had imagined what it would feel like getting on the Hogwarts Express for the last time. He imagined that he’d be excited, surrounded by his friends, and ready to take on his last year with confidence. He’d pictured himself tall and strong with his broom on his back - transformed from the boy who had cried the night before he left his home for school the first time.

As Scorpius hugged his father goodbye on Platform 9 3/4, he realized that it was Albus who was living his dream. Over Draco’s shoulder, Scorpius saw Albus pick up his trunk with one hand and his broom with the other, flagging down Flint in the distance.

Draco looked at his son, concerned.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” said Scorpius. “Just wasn’t ready to see summer end.”

“Is that all?” Draco was unconvinced.

“Yeah,” said Scorpius. “I’m fine.”

“Is something wrong with you and Albus?”

Draco looked uncomfortable just asking the question. Scorpius watched as Albus embraced Flint. Farley jumped on his back in greeting.

“No, not at all,” said Scorpius. “He’s been great.”

Draco nodded as though he didn’t quite believe him.

“Let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about,” Draco said.

For the briefest moment, Scorpius considered telling him everything about his powers and how worried he was that he’d lose control again and hurt someone else.

“I will, dad,” said Scorpius. “Thanks.”

Draco gave Scorpius one last hug before he watched his son get on the train to Hogwarts for his last year.

“They grow up so quickly.”

Draco turned and saw Hermione arriving at his side.

“I know,” Draco said with a wistful smile as he watched through the window as Scorpius settled into the cabin in front of him. “Seems like just yesterday Astoria was setting him in my arms for the first time.”

Ron and Harry joined them, Ginny in tow. Draco watched Albus and a few other Slytherin seventh years settle into the cabin with Scorpius, and he was glad to see that they all greeted each other warmly. There was little that made Draco happier than seeing his son enjoy a childhood that was the complete opposite of his own.

“They’ll have jobs this time next year,” said Harry.

“And Rose will have moved out with her friends if she has her way.”

The five parents waved goodbye to their children, Rose hanging out of the cabin behind the Slytherins’ to kiss her father goodbye one more time, and watched as the train disappeared into the distance and the crowd around them thinned.

“I need a drink,” announced Hermione after a long silence.

“Leaky Cauldron?” Draco asked.

Everyone murmured in agreement. Sending their nearly-adult children off to their last year of school was not a task to be completed sober.

* * *

 

Albus threw a notice his father had sent down on Scorpius’ notes as he studied in the common room. It was October, and the major organizations in the wizarding world were starting to look for new recruits that would be graduating from the schools across Europe in the spring, and the Magical Archives of Britain seemed to be the perfect fit for Scorpius’ bookworm-related abilities.

“Dad sent that for you,” Albus said, taking the seat across from him. He was sweaty from the first official Quidditch practice of the year and looked exhilarated, while Scorpius was exhausted to his bones. Helping second years with their potions homework wasn’t conducive to his sense of control, but what was he supposed to do? Let them fail?

Scorpius picked up the notice and read it over. A position as a fledgling historian promised whole days spent in archives, organizing information and helping curious witches and wizards find the records they were looking for, and the opportunity to move into a specialty like artifacts - the perfect job for someone who grew up in a secret museum of forbidden things.

“That’s pretty interesting,” said Scorpius.

“You have to apply,” said Albus. “At least apply.”

“It’s probably really competitive,” said Scorpius. “It says there’re only three positions available.”

“You can get it.”

“Because I’m a Malfoy?”

“Because you’re brilliant.”

Scorpius smiled at him. He hadn’t seen much of Albus in the first weeks of school with the beginning of Dueling Club and their different schedules. Albus was always surrounded by their friends, and Scorpius was sure he’d never seen him happier.

“How are you?” Albus asked. He took Scorpius’ hand from the table and started playing with his fingers. “I didn’t see you after breakfast.”

“I know,” said Scorpius. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, giving up for the day. He was so tired his vision was blurry even with them on. “I’m really drained.”

“Anything I can do?”

Scorpius smiled and shook his head. “No. Just a long day.”

“No... complications?”

Scorpius shook his head, but it was a lie. While making his to-do list over lunch, he’d been anxious and had brought the coffee in his mug to a boil and burned his tongue, which was difficult to explain to Madam Pomfrey.

“No. What about you? How’s Quidditch going?”

Farley approached from the side and groaned at them. “Stop being cute.”

“I refuse,” said Albus, grinning. Scorpius held onto his hand.

“Albus is faster than ever this year,” said Farley. “I don’t know what you did over the summer, but it worked. We’re going to beat everyone this year.”

“We just need to get the new Beater in better shape.”

“We’ve got time. If we only have one problem player this year, we’re in a good position.”

Scorpius looked up at Farley, but he was a blur.

“How’s Gryffindor looking?”

“Flint and I are going down to watch them practice tomorrow night,” Farley replied. “Al, you should come with us.”

“Sure,” said Albus, but immediately took it back when he saw Scorpius’ expression fall. “Actually, I think Scorp and I were going to study -”

“You should go,” Scorpius interrupted, waving a dismissive hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius said. “If it gives us an edge against Rose, it’s worth it.”

Albus laughed. “Thanks.”

“Great, so we’ll meet there at six?”

“Yeah,” Albus yawned. “Six.”

Farley left them, and Albus yawned again.

“You should get some sleep,” said Scorpius.

“I think I will,” said Albus, stretching before standing. “Are you coming in soon?”

Scorpius shook his head. “I’ve got to finish this.”

“Alright.”

Albus bent over and kissed his temple before whispering in his ear.

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” Scorpius whispered back and watched as Albus disappeared down the corridor toward the dorms.

What was one more night alone in the library if it meant beating Gryffindor?

* * *

 The long dueling platform had been set up in one of the larger classrooms with space on either side for Dueling Club members to watch their fellows practice. The match list was posted on the wall, and Scorpius stood at the back of the line, waiting to review it. He’d been practicing his control constantly leading up to the first practical meeting, and hadn’t broken or burned anything in more than a week. Albus was optimistic that he’d turned the corner, but Scorpius was a bit more cautious. As he waited, he took slow breaths, counting beats between inhales and exhales, staying aware of his heartbeat and blocking out everyone around him.

He was the last one to view the list, and most of the students had taken seats on the floor along the platform lines, whispering to one another. Scorpius searched for his name and found it right in the middle matched with “Taylor, Cliff.”

Scorpius held his breath and turned around to scan the crowd, and saw Taylor across the room, snarling. Clearly, he remembered their last altercation when Scorpius had accidentally thrown him into a stone wall.

“Shit,” whispered Scorpius under his breath.

Professor Vector took her place at the center of the platform, a smile on her face. She wasn’t even aware of what she’d done, Scorpius knew. She’d chosen the names at random from a hat like she always did.

“Welcome back for our first practical meeting of the year,” she said brightly. Scorpius too his seat at the back of the pack and blocked her out, breathing slowly and waiting. Scorpius told himself he’d wait until his name was called - that he’d stay calm and quiet until he had to duel and that everything was going to be fine - and it was for a while, but he was unlucky. He and Taylor were called fourth from the list of sixteen.

Scorpius let out a slow breath and stood, clutching his wand tightly.

 _It’s been more than a week,_  thought Scorpius.  _I’m in complete control of my magic. I’ll just defend myself until he’s declared the victor and take the loss. Just hold on long enough to keep my dignity._

Scorpius stepped up onto the dais and bowed to Taylor. He tried to offer a small smile of apology but was met only with a sneer. He waited quietly, taking a defensive stance, listening for Vector’s mark.

“Steady,” Vector called from the midline. She waited a beat that lasted an eternity.

“Duel.”

Taylor barely waited for her to finish the word before striking. Scorpius raised his wand and blocked, rattling off protective spells as if they were second nature, holding his ground. Taylor knocked him off balance once - twice - and then Scorpius had to take a step back.

He was almost there - the point of concession - when Taylor launched a volley of arrows at Scorpius - an illegal move he wasn’t prepared for. He dodged, feeling them fly past him as Vector called foul, but Cliff had no intention of stopping. He came at Scorpius again, before Vector could intervene, with a blasting spell.

Scorpius deflected, his technique sloppy in his surprise, feeling energy travel up and down his arm and through his body - an inexplicable tingling that turned into pain before being redirected back in Taylor’s direction. Scorpius watched in slow motion as Taylor was blown back by his own curse, off the end of the dais, and into the crowd of students behind him. At least five people were knocked to the ground, and Scorpius cringed as he straightened himself.

“Malfoy!” cried Professor Vector. Scorpius closed his eyes and took a deep breath, bracing himself for what came next.

“Professor McGonagall’s office. Now.”

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor McGonagall, her voice stern. “You’re barred from Dueling, and you’ll be serving detention with Professor Slughorn until the end of the month.”

“Yes, professor,” said Scorpius, nearly inaudible. He stood before her desk with his hands clasped behind his back and his head bowed.

“This is the second time you’ve used undue force,” she said. “You’re fortunate it isn’t more.”

“Yes, professor.”

McGonagall sighed. It was late in the day and Scorpius knew he’d interrupted something far more enjoyable for her, which only added to his guilt.

“What happened, Malfoy?”

It was a question he hadn’t been expecting. Scorpius looked up at her and hoped his face didn’t betray exactly how much he wanted to run from the room.

“I lost control,” he said quietly. “It’s... it’s been happening a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unless I’m calm, things just happen. I didn’t mean to hurt Cliff today, and I didn’t mean to hurt him last spring.”

“Do you mean to say that you don’t have control of your powers?”

“No, professor. Not all the time.”

Scorpius bowed his head in shame.

“Who knows about this?” Professor McGonagall’s voice shifted from anger to concern.

“Albus,” Scorpius admitted. “I think my dad knows something’s wrong, but I didn’t want to bother him.”

Professor McGonagall tapped her fingers on her desk one at a time, thinking and regarding Scorpius for what seemed like an eternity.

“Instead of Professor Slughorn, you’re to have your detentions with me, Mr. Malfoy,” she said finally. “You are to report here after dinner every night. Do you understand?”

“Yes, professor.”

“Now go directly back to the Slytherin dorms,” she said, pulling a piece of parchment near and reaching for her quill.

“Are you doing to write to my father?”

She regarded him again, weighing her options.

“I’m going to tell him that you’ve left the Dueling Club because of a conflict that has landed you in an extended detention,” she said. “Nothing more.”

Scorpius sighed in relief. That was the best he could hope for.

“Thank you, professor.”

He turned to leave and walked toward the door slowly, his energy spent.

“And Malfoy?”

“Yes, professor?”

“We’ll get you sorted. Don’t worry.”

Scorpius nodded and thanked her before slipping out into the dark corridor.

* * *

 

When Scorpius got back to the dorm, Albus was already in bed. He was reviewing some notes from earlier in the day but looked as if he wasn’t far from sleep.

“You’re running late,” he said as Scorpius walked in. He set the notes aside when he saw Scorpius’ face. “What’s wrong?”

Scorpius didn’t know how to say it - that he’d lost control again, that he hadn’t turned the corner, that he’d hurt someone again, and that he’d been kicked out of the one thing he’d excelled at consistently during his time at Hogwarts.

Scorpius looked across the room at Farley and Pucey, who were getting ready for bed. Everyone was going to find out in the morning anyway, so why bother dealing with it tonight?

“I’m going to bed,” Scorpius said, kicking his shoes off and climbing into bed, still dressed.

“Scorp, talk to me,” said Albus. He got up and sat down on the edge of Scorpius’ bed, but Scorpius just laid there, hugging his pillow.

“Did you lose control again?” Albus spoke quietly so their roommates couldn’t hear.

Scorpius nodded. “I’ve been kicked out of Dueling Club, and I’ve got detention with Professor McGonagall every night for the foreseeable future.”

The pity in Albus’ eyes was enough to irritate Scorpius again, so he buried his face in his pillow.

“Was anyone hurt?”

“I think I sent four people to the hospital wing,” said Scorpius.

“Is McGonagall going to help you?”

“She said she’s going to work with me,” said Scorpius into his pillow.

“Well, that’s really good news,” replied Albus, rubbing Scorpius’ back as he always did when he was stressed. “McGonagall is brilliant - she’ll help you get back on track.”

“Seventh year isn’t going the way I wanted it to,” Scorpius said. He felt Albus’ weight shift on the bed as he leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Can I help?”

Scorpius turned and opened one eye, looking at him.

“Just be here.”

“I always am.”

* * *

 

The next morning, Albus sat with his head in his hands. Usually, he was happy when Scorpius finally joined him for breakfast, but today, he was hoping Scorpius would decide to stay upstairs.  _The Daily Prophet_  sat in front of him, passed down from Flint. He’d never thought there would be a headline worse than  _Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy Spotted Snogging at Harpies/Puddlemere Match_ , but there it was -

 _Scorpius Malfoy Injures Multiple Students in Dueling Match_  with the subtitle  _Does Chosen One’s Son Approve?_

“I swear to Dumbledore,” said Albus as Farley sat beside him, “if I ever get my hands on whoever writes this -”

“You’ll do nothing,” Farley interrupted. “Because if you do, then you’ll be in the next day’s paper.”

Albus sighed and shook his head. “Scorpius is going to be so pissed.”

And with that, Scorpius walked into the hall, pulling his robes on. He was rushing, Albus could tell, which was only going to make this worse. As he passed the other students, they whispered and stared, pointing, and Scorpius took note. Albus was sure he was expecting some kind of reaction, but it was clearly exacerbated by the article.

“Good morning,” said Scorpius as he approached. Across the room, a gaggle of Gryffindors stared him down. Farley made room for him between himself and Albus, staring back at the Gryffindors with a sneer.

Albus didn’t know what to say, so he just handed the  _Prophet_  to Scorpius with his coffee, fixed just the way he liked it.

Scorpius unfolded it and stared down at his own name.

“I’m sorry, man,” said Farley.

“What do we do?” asked Albus quietly.

Scorpius refolded the paper and set it down calmly on the table.

“Nothing,” said Scorpius. He took a long drink from his coffee mug. “We do absolutely nothing.”

“They’re going to stalk you through the halls,” said Farley, nodding at the Gryffindors.

“Let them,” said Scorpius. “They’ll all be scared of me anyway. They won’t do anything.”

“Still,” said Albus. “Safety in numbers. Try to stay with some of our friends.”

“You don’t need to protect me,” said Scorpius. “No doubt my father will have seen this, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.”

“Are you okay?” Albus asked. “I thought you’d be more upset.”

“I’m doing my best, Albus,” Scorpius replied. “That’s all I can do. I’ll start working with McGonagall tonight and things are going to get better, just like you said.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Precious little cinnamon roll finally getting the help he needs.
> 
> xoxo  
> SP


	17. Winter

Albus and their roommates had made it a point that Scorpius wasn’t to roam the halls alone unless absolutely necessary while the Gryffindors were still out for his blood, but after a few weeks it became harder and harder to justify everyone being late for class. Finally, Scorpius insisted Albus call off their friends and just let the conflict die - a conversation he had one day too early.

“Here comes the future murderer,” said a particularly burly Gryffindor, approaching Scorpius in a mostly-quiet hall as he was on his way to the library.

“Just like his grandfather,” agreed his tall companion.

Scorpius, determined to avoid any conflict, took a deep breath and kept walking, his eyes on the library doors. He was so close -

“Hey!”

The burly one got close enough to shoulder check him as he passed, and Scorpius dropped the book he was carrying.

“Why don’t you get your boyfriend to pick it up for you?”

Scorpius held his tongue and took deep breaths, visualizing himself calm and collected as Professor McGonagall had taught him. He reached down and scooped the book up, determined to be on his way.

“Off to pick your next victim, freak?”

Scorpius heard the familiar clicking of a girls’ uniform shoes, and turned to see Ainsley walking swiftly towards him. The taller Gryffindor rolled his eyes, clearly not interested in starting a fight with an audience. Ainsley sneered at him as she walked by, clearly disgusted, and caught Scorpius’ arm to usher him along.

“Come on,” she urged. “We have better things to do.”

Together, they walked into the library.

“Thanks,” Scorpius said.

“They’ve been like that for ages now,” Ainsley replied, tossing her bag roughly onto a table. “It’s so irritating. The whole house has it out for Slytherin.”

“I’m not surprised,” Scorpius admitted, taking a seat and setting his bag aside. “I did beat Taylor up pretty badly.”

“In my opinion, he probably deserved it, but I also think it’s because they know they’re going to lose the match next week.”

Ainsley rarely said an ill word about anyone, let alone one of her classmates.

“What’s gotten into you?”

She sighed and shook her head. “Nothing. Just behind on my homework and my mum is on me about ‘choosing the right friends,’ which clearly doesn’t mean anyone in Hufflepuff.”

“I’m sorry,” said Scorpius. “Is she sending letters?”

“Worse,” Ainsley said. “She keeps insisting I meet with her on the weekends, like I don’t have anything better do to.”

Ainsley pulled out her homework, squinting at it menacingly.

“I guess bad vision runs in the family,” Scorpius said. Ainsley nodded.

“Are you caught up in potions?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you think you could help me?”

Scorpius smiled and sat down next to her, looking at her homework. It was good to feel like he was still good at something.

* * *

 

“You have to  _mean_  it, Mr. Malfoy,” pressed Professor McGonagall.

“I do mean it,” said Scorpius. “It’s just not working.”

Scorpius was frustrated, staring down a simple mug of water atop Professor McGonagall’s desk. What came easily to him the day before was now difficult, and his eyes began to water with exertion and exhaustion.

Professor McGonagall, shook her head, pacing around Scorpius’ chair.

“Take a moment, Mr. Malfoy.”

Scorpius sighed and slumped in his seat.

“I don’t know why I can’t do it today,” Scorpius said, defeated. “It was fine yesterday.”

“You’ve done well,” Professor McGonagall assured him, consulting a notepad on her desk. “It’s been twenty days since your last incident, unless there’s something you haven’t mentioned.”

Scorpius shook his head. He had been spending two hours a day with Professor McGonagall, working on lighting candles, boiling water, and moving objects first without a wand, and then without words.

Some days she was kind and understanding, and others she pressed him to the point of breaking. It was those days that he dragged his feet back to the dorm and barely made it to his bed before falling asleep. More than once, Albus had removed his shoes after he was unconscious.

“Do you think this is helping, Mr. Malfoy?”

“I don’t feel as volatile anymore,” said Scorpius. “Although not going to Dueling Club and avoiding large groups has been helping too.”

“I imagine it has,” said Professor McGonagall. “But you can’t avoid everyone forever.”

“I know,” Scorpius muttered. He’d scarcely seen Albus or any of his friends for weeks, choosing instead to stay in the dorm or at the back of the library where little could get to him. He’d been solely focused on his schoolwork and McGonagall’s training, which left little energy for anything else.

“At least I won’t be so worried about you going home for Christmas in a few weeks,” said McGonagall. Scorpius was touched that she’d be concerned. “Try again.”

Scorpius took a deep breath and sat up straight in his chair. He stared at the mug, trying to imagine that it had done something to him - anything at all. He tried to recall how he’d felt when Cliff came after him during their duel, and when that didn’t work, he imagined the way he felt when Albus kissed him, but only managed to muster a light tingling in his fingertips.

After a few minutes, Scorpius shook his head.

“It’s useless,” he said. “It comes and it goes. I think I’ve been getting lucky lighting those candles.”

McGonagall shook her head. “It’s not luck, Mr. Malfoy. Those days you had magic to redirect. Today you need to learn to find it.”

Scorpius looked back at the mug, defeated.

“Hold out your hand,” McGonagall said. “Reach for the water without touching it.”

Scorpius did as she asked, holding his arm out toward the mug, his fingertips centimeters from the ceramic edge. He felt very stupid and looked at her, confused.

“Think about the water. Now imagine heat coming from your chest. Right here,” she said, pointing to the place just above her heart. “Now imagine that heat like a red stream coming from your chest to your shoulder and down your arm to your fingertips.”

Scorpius closed his eyes, and tried to visualize the energy McGonagall was talking about - the magic that he couldn’t quite control. He saw the color red and breathed deeply, picturing it moving down his arm to his fingertips and, to his surprise, felt heat moving through his veins down to his hand. He imagined that heat flowing from his fingertips through the ceramic mug and into the water it held, and he held the image for a long time, his arm tingling like it did when his fingers sparked or he set something on fire.

When the water in the mug began to boil, Professor McGonagall let out an unexpected cheer of delight.

“Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy,” she said.

Scorpius lowered his hand. Though he was winded, this accomplishment had been the easiest thus far.

“I did it?”

“Indeed, you did,” said Professor McGonagall, withdrawing a teabag from her desk. “Generally, I prefer loose leaf, but this is one of my favorite blends, so I like to keep it handy.”

McGonagall steeped the tea for a moment while Scorpius caught his breath, and then pressed the mug into his hands.

“You still have a long way to go, Mr. Malfoy,” said Professor McGonagall. “But you’ve made an excellent start. I think you can start spending time with your friends again.”

Scorpius took a sip of his tea and looked at her. He hadn’t mentioned avoiding those closest to him.

“It’s my job to notice things,” McGonagall admitted, and Scorpius smiled, believing for the first time that things could actually go back to something resembling normal.

* * *

 

Scorpius found the dormitory empty when the returned. Normally he would have seized the opportunity to climb into bed early, but he wanted to see Albus, so he started straightening things up - stacking up books for his roommates and putting away the clean clothes the house elves had left on each of their beds. He organized his own notes, and then rummaged through Albus’ bag to do the same since he knew he’d been distracted leading up to the big match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

If the other boys were to be believed, they were the two most evenly-matched teams in years, and Albus had been spending all his evenings on the pitch or in the field practicing with his teammates for the last week. Between practices, classes, and his detentions with McGonagall, he’d only seen Albus at meals and before bed each night.

“But you’re getting better,” Albus had said a few days before. “Nothing’s happened for weeks.”

It was encouraging, but Scorpius knew Albus had been too busy to notice how exhausted he’d been, and that was exactly how he wanted it. If he was going to be miserable, he didn’t want Albus to be miserable with him.

Scorpius was already in his pajamas and ready for bed when the other boys came back, noses red from the cold.

“Winter’s coming early,” Albus said with a grin when he saw Scorpius organizing papers on his desk. “What are you doing?”

“Your notes for next week’s Defense Against the Dark Arts test are a mess,” Scorpius said. “I’m just trying to fix them since you’ve been busy.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” Albus said. He kissed Scorpius on the cheek and Flint groaned at them.

“Rules,” he said. “No cuteness in the dorm.”

“Sorry,” Albus mock-apologized. “When I’m overcome with gratitude, I get mushy.”

Flint scoffed and went to peel off his dirty Quidditch robes.

“How are things going with McGonagall?” Albus asked as he sat on his bed, pulling off his boots.

“I actually think I’m starting to get it under control,” Scorpius told him. “Today she had me visualize heat as a red light, and it really helped.”

“So maybe that’s what you need to do. Picture the magic?”

“It doesn’t feel the same as casting a spell,” Scorpius said, clipping Albus’ notes together and tucking them into a fresh folder from his own stash. “It’s more like raw energy.”

“That’s terrifying,” said Albus. He threw his boots and robes into a pile with Flint and Farley’s.

Scorpius shrugged. “It’s what I’ve got to deal with.”

“Are you coming to the match tomorrow? You skipped Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw last week.”

“Of course,” said Scorpius. “You’re playing.”

Albus smiled and checked that no one was paying attention before giving Scorpius a brief kiss.

“You’re the best,” Albus said. “Really. I know you’re having problems and I’ve barely seen you. I’ve wanted to help -”

“There’s nothing you could do,” Scorpius assured him for the millionth time.

“But things are getting better,” Albus said, taking Scorpius’ hand and holding it tight. “And I have a surprise for you tomorrow after the game.”

Scorpius’ expression must have betrayed his apprehension, because Albus smiled and laughed.

“It’s a good surprise,” he said. “I promise. I’m really proud of you.”

Scorpius gave Albus a smile and handed him the reorganized notes.

“Thanks,” Scorpius said. It was the little victories that counted.

* * *

 

In the morning, Scorpius rose first and laid out Albus’ clean Quidditch uniform across his trunk and re-laced his boots so they wouldn’t dig into his toes. He went downstairs and grabbed a carafe of coffee and mugs and a stack of breakfast sandwiches and slipped back into the dorm just as the rest of the boys were rising.

“Damn,” said Pucey, throwing a pillow at Farley. “The alarm didn’t go off.”

“I turned it off,” said Scorpius. “Brought breakfast up. Thought you could all use the extra sleep.”

“That was nice of you,” said Farley as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Consider it my sole contribution to your victory today,” said Scorpius, pouring the coffee and distributing it. Albus had barely stirred, so Scorpius walked over to his bed and shook him awake, coffee in hand.

“Al? Come on, you have a game to win.”

“Five more minutes,” Albus muttered.

“It’s cold out here. Please don’t make me take away your blanket.”

Albus gripped his blanket tight and turned his face into his pillow.

Pucey grinned at the foot of Albus’ bed and when Scorpius gave him the nod he seized the bottom of the comforter and ripped it from atop Albus like he was pulling a tablecloth from under a dinner setting.

Albus, suddenly very cold, sat up in bed and glared at them both.

“I hate you all.”

“No, you don’t,” said Scorpius. “Here’s your coffee.”

Albus clutched the mug, muttering dramatically about hypothermia.

Pucey and Scorpius sat back as the others pulled on their uniforms, going over last minute tactics to stop Rose and her chasers and to ensure Albus had a good shot at catching the Snitch. Scorpius suggested keeping one of the Slytherin beaters on Seeker patrol so he’d have more space to look for the Snitch, but truthfully it was because he panicked every time one of the bludgers got within ten meters of Albus.

When it was time to go, Albus gulped down the rest of his coffee and handed his mug back to Scorpius who was sitting on his trunk.

“Meet me at the Hog’s Head after the match, okay?”

Scorpius smiled and nodded and Albus bent down to kiss him, but Flint had him by the arm and pulled him out the door.

“Come on, lover boy,” Flint said, Farley in tow. “We’ve got a match to win.”

Albus laughed as he was pulled along out the door. “Right after the match!”

“Okay!”

“And thank you for fixing my boots!”

* * *

 

“You’d think they were playing for the cup,” Ainsley said, watching the brutal match in front of her. Scorpius’ eyes followed Albus around the pitch, disregarding the rest of the game.

“It’s pretty aggressive,” Scorpius said. They were down by ten, but the score had been flip-flopping the entire game and neither team was going to win without the Snitch. Gryffindor and Slytherin were evenly matched on both defense and offense, and this had been one of the longest school games he’d ever witnessed.

“I think they’re starting to get tired,” Ainsley commented. “Granger-Weasley isn’t moving quite as fast -”

Ainsley was cut off by a cheer from the Slytherins as Albus streaked straight towards the ground. Scorpius held his breath as the Gryffindor seeker followed, but was too slow to catch up. Albus turned and chased the Snitch around the perimeter of the pitch, skimming the grass as everyone screamed and Farley chased him, deflecting bludgers until finally, Albus came up from the ground, his hand raised in victory as he clutched the Snitch.

Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief and watched as the Slytherin team hit the ground and gathered in a celebratory mass. In the middle, Scorpius could just see Albus’ mess of black hair and his hand still clutching the ball.

* * *

 

Albus entered the Hog's Head and threw off his coat and robes, hooking them on the rack by the door. Half the team was a bit behind him, but Albus was in a rush. He had someone to meet.

In the corner with a few tables pushed together was Draco Malfoy, standing over a cake and several ready pitchers of butterbeer.

“Everything set?” Albus asked, striding over.

“Yes,” said Draco. “Pike made his favorite cake once I told her.”

“What exactly are we doing?” asked Maggie at Albus’ shoulder. She waved at Draco politely.

“It’s good to see you, Miss Goyle,” Draco said. “Scorpius has received one of the coveted fellowships at the Magical Archives of Britain. The letter came to the manor instead of to him, and so I talked to Albus and we decided to surprise him.”

“He’s been having a rough term,” Albus said.

“Yeah, he has,” agreed Pucey. “Barely comes out of the library.”

Flint and Farley sat down at the table as Draco began pouring drinks, waving off the barmaid who offered to take care of it.

Albus nodded. “He needs a pick me up, so I’ve got Ainsley stalling so everyone who doesn’t hate him after the dueling incident can get here.”

“That’s elaborate,” said Maggie. “I’m impressed.”

“Well, what he doesn’t know is that I applied for an internship at the Magizoology Society in London,” Albus told her. “And I have provisional acceptance based on my N.E.W.T scores at the end of the year. I didn’t even tell him I was looking at it, but if he’s at the archives and I’m at the zoo -”

“Then you’re both in London,” Maggie finished.

“And so I’m going to ask him if he wants to move in together,” Albus said, rocking uncertainly onto his toes.

“That’s kind of a big deal,” Maggie said and looked to Draco. “Are you endorsing this?”

“I’m making my peace,” said Draco as a few of Scorpius’ Hufflepuff friends joined them. Though Scorpius had always been kind to everyone, Albus knew the only Gryffindors in attendance would be Rose, Lily and Hugo, wherever they were.

“I just want to start thinking about what comes next.”

Albus sat down beside Flint, who now had Maggie on his lap, and stared at the door expectantly.

“Ainsley’s doing a good job stalling,” said Farley. They all had their drinks and were eyeing the cake hungrily, and still, no Scorpius.

“Do you think he had another incident?” Draco asked Albus quietly. He shook his head.

“No, he’s been good for a while now,” Albus said. “I think the worst has passed.”

Draco nodded and folded his arms, impatient.

The door opened, bring with it a gust of cold wind, and at first Albus perceived what entered as a single, large, awkwardly-shaped person, but as it approached their table at a decent clip, he realized it was Lily and Hugo with Ainsley suspended between them, Rose in tow.

“Help,” Hugo said.

Albus and Draco rushed forward, watched by all the occupants of the pub, and took Ainsley, depositing her in the nearest empty chair. Albus finally got a good look at her and saw her face smeared with dirt, her hair full of leaves and her robes torn down one side.

“What happened?” Draco asked, kneeling in front of her.

“I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I told Scorpius I had to go back to the castle for my better coat, and we were walking down the path to get here.”

Albus grabbed a glass of water from the table and handed it to her, and she took a grateful gulp.

“These people came out of nowhere and ambushed us -”

Albus went cold and knelt beside Draco.

“And he told me to run, but I wouldn’t. They said he had to go with them - something about family duty - but he refused, and I told them to leave. One of them called me a blood traitor and raised his wand at me, and Scorpius got in the way and they fought.”

She sobbed again, choking, and stopped for another drink.

“What next?” Albus demanded.

“I tried to help, but one of them hexed me and I fell and I think they were on him, but when I woke up I was in this crater and Scorpius was gone.”

“That’s where we found her,” Lily said. Ainsley met Albus’ eyes as the truth started to dawn on him.

“Al, I think they took him.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	18. Crater

**Part 3**

 

_It’s bright._

_The first snow flurry of the year is starting to fall. Ainsley is laughing nervously beside me, and I know she’s in on whatever Albus is up to. I’m anxious - in a good way, though, and I’m happy to be anxious here, with Ainsley, on the way to Hogsmeade without feeling like I’m going to lose control and set the trees on fire._

_“So what is Albus up to?”_

_She just smirks at me and wraps her arm through mine, and it feels so very good to have family near._

_“You’ll see.”_

_The wind blows and the leaves rustle under the gray sky, so I don’t think anything of the noise until raised voices come from behind us._

_“Stop.”_

_I turn and see two men in black robes striding towards me, both with their wands raised, and a third, hooded figure that’s shorter - possibly a woman._

_“Run along, little girl,” says the taller of the men. “We’re only here for Malfoy.”_

_Ainsley tries to step in front of me, but I push her back more aggressively than I’ve ever intentionally pushed anyone._

_“Run, Ainsley,” I tell her, but she refuses. Damn Hufflepuffs._

_“Run along,” the man repeats. “Malfoy here needs to learn a few things about family duty, and even though you’re a blood traitor, it’s not time for your lesson yet.”_

_I don’t know what they want. I’ve never seen these men before in my life. I grip my wand in the pocket of my robes, feeling my hands start to tingle. I don’t want to start something unless I have to, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away._

_Ainsley raises her wand, and the shorter man raises his wand too, and I’m left with no choice. The tingling becomes painful pins and needles - a physical static._

_“Ainsley, go,” I say again, quiet. “Go get help.”_

_But it’s too late. The shorter man casts a hex aimed at Ainsley and she only barely blocks it. I try to hold them off - to protect my cousin and myself - but the third person steps forward and duels us. Ainsley, untrained, misses a hex aimed at her and falls back with a yelp and I turn my head for only a second to see if there’s something I can do - some way I can help her - but it’s no use._

_They’re on me. The hooded one - clearly a woman - grabs ahold of my arm and I feel the tug of apparition a second before it happens, and I react, releasing all the energy I have, but it’s no use. The world dissolves into shades of gray._

* * *

 

**30 Minutes**

Albus stood on the edge of a small crater - only a meter deep - where the earth had been blown away. Ainsley stood behind him in Rose’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Scorpius was gone. Missing. Taken. Albus mulled over the words she’d said in his mind - black robes, blood traitor, family duty.

Draco stood at his shoulder, staring down into the depression as well, his jaw set and his eyes unblinking. Seeing physical evidence of the attack made it concrete, and Albus’ heart pounded in his chest.

“What do we do?” he asked Draco.

Draco stared down at the fresh, brown earth for a moment longer, his gaze distant.

“We go to your father,” he said. He pivoted and looked at Scorpius’ friends standing behind them.

“Rose, take Miss Greengrass to the hospital wing. Stay there. Lily, alert Professor McGonagall.”

Lily nodded and looked at Albus, concern etched across her face.

“What can we do?” Flint asked, gripping Maggie’s hand.

“Go back to the Slytherin common room. Do not leave the dungeon,” Draco commanded. He held out his hand for Albus.

“Let’s go.”

Albus’ head spun and when he took Draco’s hand they apperated instantly to the Ministry of Magic atrium.

Draco released him and strode toward the elevator as quickly as he could.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” Albus asked as they got into one of the cars. It had been years since he’d been to his father’s office, and he had no idea how to get there.

“The Malfoys have a lot of enemies,” Draco said.

Albus took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to calm himself.

 _This can’t be happening,_ Albus thought over and over again.  _This isn’t happening._

The elevator ride took approximately two eternities, in which Albus imagined every possible thing that could be happening to Scorpius. His pulse pounded in his ears and his breaths came shallow and quick.

Draco looked about as bad as he felt.

When the elevator stopped, Draco pushed past the crowd waiting to board, clearing a way for both himself and Albus. They strode down a long, black hallway in silence, and Albus wished he would say something - anything - to fill the void.

But Draco did not. He walked right to a door at the end of the hall that read “Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” and shouldered it open without knocking.

Harry was at his desk, quill in hand, and looked up.

“Draco? Albus? To what do I owe the -”

“Scorpius has been kidnapped,” Draco said, his voice menacing and firm.

Hearing Draco say the word out loud -  _kidnapped -_ made Albus shudder and he gripped the chair across from his father’s desk for support.

_What was the last thing I said to him?_

“Kidnapped?” Harry asked, rising from his desk. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You’ll want to send someone to talk to Ainsley Greengrass at Hogwarts. She was there.”

“Do we know who took him?”

Harry stood in front of Draco, his eyes daring to his son.

“They called Ainsley a blood traitor and said something about family duty. There were three - two men, and a third figure we’re not sure about. They dueled, she was hexed, and when she woke up, he was gone and she was in this shallow crater where they’d been.” Draco said, his voice starting to break. “That’s all I know.”

Albus had heard his father talk about investigations before, and he knew what they had was insufficient.

“His powers were out of control,” Albus added, looking to his father. “He probably blasted that crater himself trying to get away.”

“Out of control?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” said Draco.

“It does matter,” Albus said. “He could hurt himself.”

“Or someone else,” Harry said.

“Who cares if he hurts the people that took him?” Albus snapped.

“What do we do, Potter?”

Harry looked between them, thinking, and then looked to Albus.

“I have to do my job,” he explained. “And that means I can’t be your dad right now.”

“I know,” Albus agreed.

“Come with me,” Harry directed, and led them out of the room and back down the long hallway towards the elevators.

“Where are we going?” Draco asked, keeping stride with Harry.

“To see the Chief of Investigations,” said Harry, entering the elevator and pressing the button for Level 2.

Harry turned and faced Draco.

“Do you have any idea who would want to hurt Scorpius?”

“He injured a Gryffindor a few weeks ago, but they wouldn’t have called him a blood traitor,” Draco said. He shook his head and bowed his head, and the gravity of the situation began to crash onto Albus.

“We’ll still have to look into it,” Harry said. Draco nodded in agreement as Albus studied the floor, wracking his brain.

_What was the last thing I said to him?_

“We’re going to find him,” Harry assured them, and when the elevator doors opened, he led them into a maze of hallways and into an area fully of desks where Magical Law Enforcement officers were filling out paperwork. They muttered perfunctory greetings to Harry as he walked past, and gave Albus confused looks as he trailed behind his father and Draco.

Harry opened the chief’s door without knocking and the three men filed inside. Chief Kara Bones looked up from her desk where she too had been filling out paperwork, and looked at Harry.

“Yes, Mr. Potter?”

Harry spoke clearly and concisely to make sure he wasn’t misunderstood.

“Scorpius Malfoy has been kidnapped by three people, two males, one undefined. He was with Ainsley Greengrass who reported the crime. The perpetrators called them blood traitors and said something about family duty, so we’re likely looking at some pureblood extremists.”

Chief Bones stared up at him, her eyebrows raised.

“How can I assist?”

“Do you have any information on any kind of suspicious activity in the last six months? Or even a year?”

“Elwin!”

A young, mousy man from an adjacent office stuck his head in.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Get me a report on any activity among the purist circles. Anything suspicious within the last year that you can find. Based on the jargon we might be looking at Death Eater affiliates or their offspring.”

Draco cringed as Elwin agreed and went back into his office.

Chief Bones folded her hands on her desk.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

Harry looked down at her.

“I’m sure there is,” he said.

“The best we can do is comb through reports and sightings from the last year,” she said.

“The best you can do?” Albus’ eyes darkened.

“Well, yes. The Department of Investigation primarily gathers information. I’m quite certain we can provide -”

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Albus beat him to it.

“You’re the Ministry of Magic, for Dumbledore’s sake!” Albus yelled. “And you’re telling me the best you can do is prepare a report?”

“Mr. Potter, this office is very busy compiling information on activity across Britain,” she said. “This is protocol -”

“I don’t give a damn about your protocol!” Albus braced his arms on the edge of her desk. “He could be anywhere. He could be hurt. He could be -”

Albus cut himself off before he could say the word.

“And you’re just going to sit here? You’re the Department of Investigation. Investigate.”

“Mr. Potter, I -”

“Get people out there. Have them looking -”

“Mr. Potter -”

“Track down every Death Eater sympathizer in England and shake their homes out for spare change until you find him!”

“MR. POTTER -”

“CHIEF BONES,” Albus yelled back. “Scorpius Malfoy is the kindest person at Hogwarts and it’s your job to find him. Believe me, I would tear this country apart brick by brick and burn London to the ground if I thought it would help bring him home safely, but it won’t.”

Albus took a deep breath and took in Chief Bones’ frightened expression with some satisfaction acutely aware of his father’s eyes on his back.

“You have to do _something_.”

Chief Bones glanced at Harry, and then back to Albus who had yet to move.

“We’ll do everything we can, Mr. Potter.”

Albus turned on his heel and left the room, and as he swung the door open, he heard his father apologize.

“He gets that from his mother.”

Albus waited outside Chief Bones’ office, trying to calm himself to no avail. When he looked around, all he saw was people going about their lives as if Scorpius Malfoy, the most wonderful human being he’d ever met, wasn’t in danger, and when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Scorpius’ smiling face, holding his coffee mug, as Flint pulled him away.

_I didn’t even kiss him goodbye._

Albus looked around, lost, and waited for his father and Draco to emerge.

* * *

 

**1 Hour**

Scorpius woke with a start on a cold and dusty wooden floor. Hs shoulders ached, but it took him a moment to figure out why - as he sat up, he felt metal wrapped around his wrists, restraining him.

“What the hell?” he muttered, his vision blurry. He sat up, looking around, taking in his surroundings to the best of his ability without his glasses. In the distance, he saw fuzzy motion - a woman in a deep, purple dress coming towards him and leaning over him.

“Mum?”

“Hardly.”

The woman bent over him and placed his glasses on his face. The right frame was cracked, but Scorpius’ vision cleared, and he looked up to see Daphne Greengrass standing over him.

“Aunt Daphne? Where am I?”

“A safe place,” she said. Scorpius looked around and saw dust-covered furniture - a drawing room - that looked as if it hadn’t been used for decades, and a large window that overlooked a hilly, empty countryside.

“A grim place,” Scorpius amended. “What do you want?”

“Right to the chase,” she said. Scorpius heard a shuffle behind him and turned quickly, startled, to see the two men who had abducted him standing near the doorway.

“I like to be direct,” Scorpius said, nudging his glasses into place with his shoulder. He looked back to Daphne, who was leaning back on the once-grand desk, her arms folded as she regarded him.

“You put up more of a fight than I thought.”

“They threatened Ainsley,” Scorpius said. “ _Your daughter._ ”

“You were never going to hurt Ainsley, were you, gentlemen?”

“No,” grunted the tall one. The short one just shook his head.

“One of them hexed her,” Scorpius said.

“A necessary sacrifice, I’m sure. Nephew, meet Angus Selwyn,” she said, gesturing to the tall one, “and Hugh Travers.”

The short one curled his lip at him in greeting.

“Pleasure,” said Scorpius coldly. “You still haven’t told me why I’m here.”

“You, dear boy, are here for a re-education.”

“I think my Hogwarts education is going just fine, so I’ll just be getting back now,” Scorpius said.

“Oh, no,” Daphne said, shaking her head. “You won’t be going back there. It’s time someone took proper responsibility for you - one of the last true pureblood wizards in England.”

Scorpius stared at her blankly, trying to muster some energy from his fingertips to free himself to no avail. The energy bottled up inside him with nowhere to go.

“It’s very important that the pureblooded families - the Sacred Twenty-Eight - take their place at the top of wizarding society once more. As it was  _meant_  to be,” Daphne said. “People love to talk about the Malfoys, but the Greengrass family has a long and storied history of power as well, and you’re a descendant of both.”

“I don’t follow,” Scorpius said.

“They tell me you’re particularly powerful - the kind of power that frightens your peers.”

Scorpius watched as she paced, still trying to figure out the irons his hands were in. He couldn’t even summon a single spark.

“It’s time you learned to use that power for good, Scorpius,” Daphne said. “We’re here to teach you how to be the wizard you were meant to be so you can lead our families back to greatness. It’s your duty to continue the Malfoy and Greengrass lines into the future.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” said Scorpius.

“Why?” Daphne replied. “Because you’ve been shagging the Potter boy?”

Scorpius fell silent.

“No,” Daphne said. “You’ll see soon enough. You’ll learn.”

“Why am I in restraints?” Scorpius asked.

“Those? Those are there to keep you from using magic to escape. At least until you’ve seen the light.”

Scorpius looked up at her, realizing the direness of his situation.

“Did you really think you and your father could consort with muggles, mudbloods, and blood traitors without consequence?” Daphne asked. “You’re purebloods. It’s high time you acted like it. First, you’ll learn how to wield your powers. Then you’ll learn how to use them.”

“I refuse to do... whatever it is that you’re asking of me,” Scorpius said. “You might as well kill me.”

 _Albus_.

Daphne sighed. “Killing you would be a waste, but I thought you might say something equally dramatic. Travers?”

Travers stepped forward, withdrawing his wand and Scorpius swallowed hard. He knew what came next.

 


	19. Apart

**4 hours**

Scorpius lay on the dungeon floor with only a single blanket for comfort. His body ached from the Cruciatus curse, and his stomach grumbled. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast in the dorm.

“You might as well shut up,” he said to his stomach. “I don’t get the feeling we’re getting room service down here.”

Scorpius looked around. The dungeon was damp and empty with a layer of dust centimeters thick on the floor. A single, small window near the ceiling let in a few rays of moonlight, but nothing more. It was sealed shut and well out of reach.

 _They’re looking for me,_ Scorpius told himself.  _Albus was waiting for me and he’d have known something was wrong and found Ainsley. They’ll be looking for me._

He struggled to his feet without use of his arms and staggered into a pillar, shaking loose dust and grime, wondering how long it had been since this place had been occupied. He took a few steps and then -  _crunch_.

“Please don’t be a skeleton. Please don’t be -”

Scorpius looked down and raised his foot. A rat skeleton was crushed beneath his shoe.

He longed for the Slytherin dorm and his warm bed.

Scorpius walked the perimeter of the room, kicking every brick along the floor looking for anything out of the ordinary, but found nothing.

 _They’re looking for me_ , Scorpius told himself again.  _Dad will be on his way._

He looked down at what he could see of his arms. The fine hairs on his triceps stood on end with as if pulled by an electric charge, and he felt as if tiny ants were crawling over his skin.

He tried to imagine Albus and his father - where they’d be and what they were doing. Would they be prowling the Hogwarts grounds? Turning Hogsmeade inside out?

One thing was for sure - they certainly weren’t going to know to start here, and he was going to have to survive until they figured it out.

* * *

 

Albus sat alone in a grand hallway, his back against the wall and his knees drawn to his chest. An emergency hearing had been called to address Scorpius’ disappearance, and even though it was the middle of the night, ministry officials had shut themselves in the main chamber. The Malfoy name had that kind of power.

“You have to wait here,” Harry had said. “I’m sorry.”

And so Albus waited for hours on end, trying not to think of all the horrible things that could be happening to Scorpius and then thinking of them anyway.

He’d barely moved until he heard footsteps approaching. Hermione was striding down the hall toward him.

“Albus?”

“Aunt Hermione.”

He got to his feet and straightened his robes, realizing for the first time that he was still dressed and dirty from Quidditch.

“Al, I can’t imagine...”

She wrapped her arms around him tight, holding him until he hugged her back.

“We’re going to find him,” she assured him. “I’m putting the entire Ministry into finding him.”

“There’s so much red tape,” Albus said. Hermione sighed.

“I know. But you’re lucky. Your dad is the best out there.”

Hermione released him and looked him over. Albus knew he looked awful. He didn’t need her to tell him.

“I’ve got to go in there,” she said. “I was just getting the report from the agents who talked to Ainsley.”

“How is she?”

“She’s pretty shaken up,” Hermione admitted. “I’ll see you after.”

She turned and strode toward the door.

“Hermione?”

“Yeah?”

“I... I didn’t even kiss him goodbye this morning.”

Hermione’s face fell into a look of pity.

“He got me ready for my game and fixed my shoes and prepped my notes for a test, and I didn’t even kiss him goodbye. Or tell him I loved him.”

“He knows, Al,” Hermione said. “He has to.”

Albus sank back to the floor.

“We’ll find him.”

Albus knew that tone. It was the same one he used when he was trying to convince both himself and Scorpius that things were going to get better.

* * *

 

**5 hours**

The door to the dungeon opened far earlier than Scorpius wanted it to. He knew it had to be the middle of the night by now, and had hoped against hope that he’d be left alone for a few more hours at least.

Selwyn came towards him, kicking up dust as he walked, and grabbed Scorpius roughly by the shoulder, dragging him off the floor. He was a large man, but didn’t look particularly intelligent.

“Come on,” he said. “Your aunt wants to see you.”

At the top of the stairs waited the person Scorpius knew immediately was the third figure. Her height and size matched, but her face surprised him the most. Petite and framed by dark, straight hair.

“He looks like his father,” Pansy Parkinson said, disappointed. She grabbed his other shoulder and pulled him along.

“I’ve seen pictures of you,” he said. “You were friends.”

“We were acquaintances,” she corrected. Scorpius knew that was a lie. Pansy Parkinson’s particular brand of crazy was why Draco had always told him to be careful who he dated.

Scorpius finally got the opportunity to look around as they walked. The walls were covered in peeling wallpaper and dusty picture frames whose portraits had been cut - shredded beyond repair. The carpet was heavy with dust and dirt, and when they rounded the corner, he saw a great atrium just a bit smaller than the one in the Malfoy Manor.

“What is this place?”

No one answered him.

Selwyn and Parkison dumped him in a chair in the drawing room where Daphne was seated in an old armchair covered in a clean blanket, reading.

“Have we had time to reconsider our attitude?” she asked. Her tone reminded Scorpius strongly of Dolores Umbridge, and he half expected her to say he was ruining Voldemort Day.

“Not really,” said Scorpius.

She sighed and closed her book, folding her hands in her lap.

“My sister’s memory deserves so much better,” she said. “And you’re content to just let her memory die.”

“My mother wanted me to be happy,” Scorpius said.

“Astoria wanted you to live a good life,” Daphne argued. “You’re capable of so much more.”

“Is this about Albus Potter?”

“This is about you and your father betraying your lineage and my sister’s memory.” Her voice was sharp and unforgiving. “It is your duty to use the power she gave you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you ever ask why the Greengrass family was cursed?”

Scorpius had, but no one had ever known or answered him. Even Draco had never been given a complete account - only that an ancestor had been cursed and it carried down through the generations, causing some members of the Greengrass family to be weaker than others.

“We were a powerful family once,” Daphne said. “Centuries ago when there was magic everywhere, and when our family came from France, we were titans in these hills. The Greengrass family was feared once. We had land and power and used magic to keep our enemies at bay.”

“I’m sure that was a long time ago,” Scorpius interrupted.

“Quiet,” Daphne snapped. Scorpius shut his mouth. He wasn’t prepared to be tortured again.

“One of our ancestors - I think his name was Abel - had more power than he could handle, and he used it poorly. There’s one in every family, I suppose,” she shrugged. “And he got himself cursed in a fight with another wizard.”

Scorpius mulled it over.

“And you think that my meager powers have something to do with it?”

Daphne grinned - a horrible, cruel distortion of his mother’s features.

“I think you’re proof that the curse is finally broken,” she said.

“It’s too late for Draco,” Pansy said. Scorpius hadn’t realized she’d stayed, and saw her standing in the doorway. “It’s not too late for you.”

* * *

**6 hours**

Albus was near catatonic by the time the meeting broke up. Several officials he didn’t know swept away, and those he’d met gave him piteous looks as they passed. Harry, Draco, and Hermione emerged last, and Albus scrambled to his feet.

“Did you figure out anything?”

“There hasn’t even been a whisper of organized activity among the older families,” Harry said. He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, looking exhausted. “Nothing.”

This was not what Albus had wanted to hear.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t start knocking on doors and asking questions,” Hermione said. “We’re going to assemble a team and start questioning as many people as possible who might know anything. And I’ve got Ron keeping an ear to the ground in Diagon Alley. Even kidnappers have to pick a few things up from time to time, and he’s completely inconspicuous there”

Albus wondered how often Hermione had used this tactic. Maybe Uncle Ron deserved more credit.

“What else?”

Albus looked to Draco, whose composure was slipping.

“It’s the best we have,” Draco said. “But I’m going to do some digging myself. See if there are any connections.”

“What can I do to help?” Albus asked, desperate. “There has to be something I can do.”

“Right now, there’s not much else we can do,” Harry said. “I’ve got officers out there patrolling wizarding communities looking for anything out of the ordinary, but until we know more...”

“That’s it?”

“I’ll be back in the morning with a list of names,” Draco told Harry. “People my father talked about who might still be involved in the purist movement. I’ll go through the journals he left behind.”

“That would be helpful, Draco,” Harry said consolingly.

“And then we can go find these people and ask questions?” Albus said. He needed concrete steps to finding Scorpius.

“And then we can start making a plan,” Harry said. “But you and I are going home now.”

“Home?”

“Yes. Neither of us is any good to Scorpius exhausted.”

“Harry is right,” Draco said to Albus. Harry looked at him as if he were surprised to hear those words. “We can’t just walk around looking for him, hoping to bump into him on the streets. We need a plan, and for that we need information.”

“And when everyone reports back in the morning, we’ll start making one,” Harry said. He took Albus by the arm. “But for now, I’m taking you home.”

Harry directed Albus down the hall back toward the elevators. Though he was exhausted, Albus would have much rather stayed with Draco and found some way to help.

He turned around and looked at Draco, who was watching the Potters leave. He looked as lost as Albus felt.

* * *

 

Albus sat on his bed, staring at the floor for a long time after he got home. It was well past midnight, but he knew he wasn’t going to sleep despite how tired his body was.

“Al?”

Ginny nudged his door open and peered in to see if he was awake.

“That’s me,” Albus sighed. He looked up at his mother and was surprised to find that her presence was of some comfort.

“How are you doing?”

“Awful,” he admitted. “Mr. Malfoy is methodically going through the motions and gathering information, and dad is mobilizing everyone he can, and I’m just sitting here having a nervous breakdown.”

Ginny sat beside him.

“I can’t imagine that you wouldn’t be,” she said. “Your boyfriend was kidnapped and threatened.”

“I just don’t think anybody gets how -”

“I do,” Ginny interrupted. “Your father ran off to fight Voldemort and left me behind. I had no idea if he was alive or dead for almost a year.”

Albus stared at her.

“He ran off to fight  _Voldemort,_ Al,” she repeated. “I think he can find Scorpius.”

“But what if we don’t find him in time?” Albus asked. He found that saying the words aloud made the fear even more palpable.

For that, Ginny had no response. She had never been one for sugar coating.

“Don’t underestimate Scorpius,” she said. “He wouldn’t underestimate you.”

Albus nodded and laid his head on his mother’s shoulder, and she held him as if he were a child.

* * *

 

Scorpius hit the ground of the dungeon hard, his wrists twisting in the irons. Sewlyn slammed the door atop the stairs, depriving the room of its main source of light. He groaned and coughed, his face in the dirt and his body still shaking.

Refusing Daphne wasn’t going to work. When she took the cuffs off and demanded he demonstrate his powers, he’d refused to play her game - it had only earned him the Cruciatus curse and an assurance of more missing meals.

Scorpius rolled onto his back and looked up at the stone ceiling above him.

 _They’re looking for you_ , he told himself.

* * *

 

The attic was dusty and full of the things Draco hated to look at - his mother’s curio, the stack of his father’s walking sticks, and the portrait of his grandparents that lay draped in the corner. The air was thick with dust and a past Draco wanted to forget - the past he’d walked away from the day Astoria had told him she was pregnant.

“ _Lumos_.”

He walked around by wand-light, not wanting to bring a lantern into this dusty fire hazard. Toys and books from his childhood had been up here since he’d left for Hogwarts and his father had decided it was time to put away childish things.

Draco looked across all the reminders of his family. He’d hoped he’d never have to come up here, and that someday when he was gone, Scorpius would have someone throw away all the things he’d never seen up here - things he’d never remember or recognize.

He stepped over his Hogwarts trunk, still full of the things he’d left the school with. He’d never opened it again after the battle. He strode over the box of his baby toys that Astoria had pulled a single stuffed bear from - the one that still sat on Scorpius’ bookshelf.

His father’s desk - so black it seemed to suck in the meager light from Draco’s wand - sat in the corner. Draco approached it slowly, as if it was dangerous, and paused for a moment and regarded it with trepidation before opening the drawer.

Black journals, all with dates inscribed on the side, each of them looking like Tom Riddle’s diary. Black journals full of Lucius Malfoy’s notes. The enchantments that kept out prying eyes had worn off years ago, but Draco had never looked through them. He had hoped he’d never have occasion too.

He scooped them all out of the drawer and slammed it shut. He’d dive back into the darkest parts of his life a thousand times if it meant bringing his son home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	20. Search

**1 Day**

“Millicent Bulstrode was easily the nosiest person I met at Hogwarts,” Draco said the next morning. They’d met in Harry’s office where Albus paced back and forth, gulping down multiple cups of coffee. Draco, who had clearly not slept at all, had compiled a list of pure-blood extremists he believed could still be ‘fighting the good fight’ from his father’s notes.

“She wasn’t as awful as some of the others,” Draco continued, “but her father died in Azkaban last year. She might know something and be willing to talk.”

“We’re still getting the information from the patrols last night,” said Harry. “And a sketch artist is with Ainsley now. I’m told she had quite the meltdown last night.”

“What are we waiting for?” Albus asked.

“Al, this is an official investigation,” Harry said. “We can’t bring a teenager with us.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“He should come with us, Potter,” Draco said. “He’s... family, to Scorpius.”

Albus and Harry looked at each other for a long time.

“I will go insane if you make me wait here or at home,” Albus said finally.

“You can’t have another outburst like yesterday,” Harry warned. Albus nodded in agreement and Harry grabbed his wand from his desk.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Scorpius was placed on the floor in the drawing room and waited for Travers to unlock his restraints. He was tired. His hair was full of dirt and grime, and his stomach was growling loudly several times a minute.

Daphne strode in with a smile on her face.

“Good morning, nephew.”

Scorpius glared at her in response.

“Now, let me remind you that while your hands are free, we won’t hesitate to use drastic measures if you try to escape,” Daphne said.

“And what if I level this house just to spite you?”

“Then someone you love will be harmed,” she said simply. “I believe Sewlyn’s last owl said that your father and the Potter boy were at the Ministry, so we know where they are.”

Scorpius sighed, relieved.

 _They’re looking for me_.

“Now,” Daphne said. “If you’ll give me a demonstration of your powers, we can figure out where to begin.”

“No,” Scorpius said defiantly. “I won’t.”

“Pity,” Daphne replied. “Travers?”

Travers stepped forward, withdrawing his wand.

“Wait,” said Scorpius. “Just wait.”

He looked away from her and weighed his options. If his father and Harry were looking for him, he just had to stay alive and sane until they got to him.

“I’m not... I’m not in complete control of everything,” Scorpius admitted.

“Do your best,” said Daphne. Her voice was cold and clinical.

Scorpius looked around the room for something he could use, and settled on a spindly, dusty chair in the corner. He stared at it and held out his hand, imagining light the same color as his skin reaching out and wrapping around the leg - an extension of himself pulling the chair closer.

It took a few moments of concentration, but the chair started to move towards him slowly, scraping across the floor.

“How did you injure the Taylor boy?”

“We were dueling and he used an illegal move,” Scorpius said. “I reacted.”

“Stand up,” Daphne said. Scorpius didn’t like where this was going, but he rose to his feet anyway. She waved Travers forward, and he moved to face Scorpius.

“I don’t have my wand,” Scorpius said.

“You’ll get your wand back when you’ve proven some measure of loyalty,” Daphne said.

“I can’t block -”

She waved her hand for Travers to continue, and he shot a basic shocking curse in Scorpius’ direction. He dodged out of the way, tripping over his own feet.

“Hey!”

Travers did it again, and Scorpius jumped behind a misplaced chair.

“This is ridiculous,” he said.

“Then fight back,” Daphne urged calmly.

Travers continued shooting curses at him, moving around the room to get better angles. Scorpius leapt behind a couch, dislodging a dust cloud that made him falter and cough. Travers’ next curse caught him in the arm, and he yelped in pain.

“I can’t fight him without my wand,” Scorpius insisted.

Daphne sighed and shook her head. “You can. And you will.”

She placed her hand on Traver’s shoulder and said something to him quietly, and Scorpius read her lips.

_Crucio._

“Shit.”

Travers muttered the curse under his breath and Scorpius ducked. The force hit the drapery behind him, dislodging another layer of dust and dirt. He ran and hid behind the desk to dodge another curse, but Travers was cornering him. When he got close, Scorpius kicked the chair under his feet, and Travers tripped while Scorpius scrambled away across the carpet.

But he wasn’t fast enough. Just as he was getting to his feet, Travers caught him in the back and white hot pain spread through his bones as he fell back to the floor. Determined to keep from screaming, Scorpius gritted his teeth and growled, and the instant the pain subsided, he held his hand out, thinking the word  _confringo,_ and Travers flew backward into a bookshelf.

“That’s more like it,” said Daphne.

* * *

 

“Draco,” said Millicent Bulstrode, opening her door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Millicent Bulstrode was about as unattractive as her name, Albus observed, but her London townhouse was absolutely gorgeous and modern - not at all what he was expecting when Draco had outlined her pure-blood status.

“I was hoping you could answer a few questions for us, Millicent,” Draco said. “If you have a minute.”

“For you, I have two,” said Millicent, stepping back to let them in. She looked at Harry and Albus as if she hadn’t noticed them before.

“Potter?”

“Miss Bulstrode,” Harry said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Indeed,” she said as they stepped into the foyer. “This must be your son, Albus.”

“In the flesh,” said Albus.

Millicent ushered them into her sitting room, but Draco wasn’t keen on wasting time.

“Millicent, my son has been kidnapped,” he said as they took their seats on her couch.

“Draco, I’m sorry,” she said.

“When he was taken, the kidnappers said something about family duty and they called the person with him a blood traitor,” he explained.

Millicent looked to Albus.

“Was that you?”

Albus looked to Harry, confused.

“I read the  _Prophet_  daily,” she admitted.

“It wasn’t me,” Albus said. “It should have been.”

“Do you know of anyone in the old pure-blood circles that would take a young man under the guise of family duty?”

“Draco, I’ve barely spoken to anyone in years,” Millicent said. “I only have contact with a few witches and wizards. I’ve been living in the Muggle world since Hogwarts. Believe me, if I could, I would have stricken my address from the Ministry records.”

Draco sighed and looked down, his head in his hands.

“Have you heard  _anything_? Who do you still talk to?”

“I have drinks with Tracey Davis every once in a while,” she said. “And Pansy Parkinson sends me an owl whenever she needs something. Usually money.”

Harry glanced at Draco, but Albus wasn’t sure why.

“Millicent,” Draco began, folding his hands and looking at her earnestly. “I know I was not kind to you at Hogwarts.”

Millicent shifted in her seat, uncomfortable.

“And I had no reason to be so cruel, and I am very sorry about that. But if you know anything - if you  _hear anything_ , please send me an owl.”

“Of course,” she agreed. Her face softened. “I’ll keep a look out. And I’ll ask Pansy and Tracey to do the same.”

“I doubt Pansy will care,” Draco said, standing. Harry and Albus followed suit. “But thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

Millicent showed them out with her deepest apologies to Draco, and wished Harry luck in the investigation.

“You don’t need me,” Harry said. “You just have to go around and apologize to everyone you pissed off at Hogwarts. That’ll put you in every wizarding house in England.”

Draco glared at him.

“Who is Pansy Parkinson?” Albus asked, trailing behind the two men.

“My girlfriend from Hogwarts,” Draco said, his voice so firm that Albus knew the conversation was over.

* * *

 

Back at the Ministry of Magic, they found Hermione waiting in Harry’s office.

“We got the information back from Ainsley Greengrass,” Hermione said. “We have an ID on the two men she saw.”

Harry took the report from her and looked at it.

“Hugh Travers and Angus Selwyn?”

“Brother and son of Death Eaters,” Hermione said. “Pure-blood extremists.”

“And the third person?”

Hermione shook her head.

“Well, this gives us a place to start.”

Albus collapsed into Harry’s desk chair. With so little sleep, his strength was nearly gone.

“We’ll go now,” Harry said. Draco nodded.

Albus stood up reluctantly. His body was protesting, but this was the most information they’d had - so he forced himself up. Harry watched him carefully.

“Albus, maybe you should -”

“I’m going. That’s it.”

* * *

 

The Travers mansion was dilapidated at best. They appeared just outside the gates, and as Harry, Albus, and Draco walked up the long driveway, Draco lamented the state of the house.

“My parents made me go to parties here as a child,” he said. “It’s a shame what’s happened to these properties.”

“It’s better than the pure-bloods having all the wealth,” Harry said. “More equity.”

“I agree,” Draco said, his hand brushing the dead bushes that lined the drive. “But this place was so beautiful once.”

Albus looked up at the massive brown house - its once-grand pillars now the color of mud and its windows so dirty they were scarcely windows.

Harry knocked on the door, and Albus heard it echo.

“Does anyone still live here?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head.

“I have no idea.”

“It would be a great place to keep a kidnapping victim if they don’t,” Harry said thoughtfully, studying the door. “I wonder how we can get in.”

Harry turned at the sound of breaking glass behind him to see Albus kicking his way through one of the windows.

“Albus!”

“Repair it later,” he said, kicking out another pane and climbing through.

“I guess he gets that from his mother too?” Draco asked.

“No,” Harry replied, stepping down into the grass and through the window’s flower bed. “No, that he gets from me.”

Albus stepped into what he assumed was the mansion’s dining hall. It was covered in dust, and the furniture was broken down.

“What happened?”

“I don’t think anyone has been here for years,” Harry said.

Draco ran his fingers across the table to evaluate the level of dust.

“I think you’re right.”

Harry held out his wand, and whispered “ _hommenum revelio_.”

Nothing happened.

“Let’s look around,” said Draco. “Though I have no idea when the last time Hugh Travers was here.”

“Do you even know him?” Albus asked.

“I think we met once a long time ago,” Draco said. “If I remember correctly, he was several years older than us.”

Albus walked into the atrium, where the dust was undisturbed, and then ran down each adjacent hallway, clutching his wand.

“Nothing,” he reported back to Draco as Harry climbed the stairs to the second floor.

“I didn’t expect there would be,” Draco said. “Nothing’s ever that easy.”

Albus looked around. The chandelier above them was dripping with spider webs.

“Why would anyone want to hurt Scorpius?” he asked.

“Because of his last name,” Draco said. “It’s the only thing about him to hate.”

“Why hasn’t there been a ransom note?”

Draco shook his head and looked at Albus, and he realized Draco had barely looked at him all day - and now he knew why. It was entirely too difficult to look into the eyes of someone in as much pain as himself.

“I don’t think this is about money,” Draco said. “If it was, I’d give every last knut in my vault to bring him home.”

Albus had to look away, and he stared at the place Harry had disappeared, waiting for him to return, and when he re-emerged, he had a single piece of paper in his hands.

“There’s nothing up here,” he said. “This place was cleaned out, but I found this on the floor.”

Harry handed Draco the photo and Albus looked over their shoulders. It was a dusty group of people standing on a lawn - a family photo. Harry pointed to a young man - maybe Albus’ age - with a goatee.

“Is that Travers?” Albus asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Albus decided he hated goatees.

“And that,” Draco said, pointing, “is my father and there is Astoria’s father.”

Lucius Malfoy stared back at them from Hugh Travers’ side. His long blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail that laid over his shoulder, dressed from head to toe in black. The resemblance between Lucius, Draco, and Scorpius was remarkable and his chest hurt looking at Scorpius’ grandfathers moving around in the photo, shifting about before the camera.

He followed Draco’s finger to the other man who also looked like Scorpius - a man with prematurely-gray hair and Scorpius’ perfect, straight nose.

“Are you related to them?”

“We’re all related somehow... the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

There were at least fifteen other people in the photo - all dressed perfectly, but Albus was staring at the two that reminded him of Scorpius. He wrapped his fingers around the amulet around his neck absently, feeling over its edges.

“We have to find him,” he said quietly.

* * *

 

Scorpius, who had never been hungry a day in his life, discovered the harsh reality that eating a bit when you’re starving can only make you feel worse.

Daphne was bent on breaking him, but as he rolled himself into the blanket on the floor, Scorpius reminded himself that his father and Albus were out there, looking for him.

 _But I don’t even know where I am,_  Scorpius thought.  _How on earth are they supposed to figure it out?_

Scorpius closed his eyes, imagining himself back in the Slytherin dorm the morning before, with Albus laughing and pulling on his boots.

It had only been a day. He could hold on as long as he had to.

 


	21. Absent

**2 Days**

“I don’t think you should be going out there with us, Albus,” Harry said over the dining room table. It was five-thirty in the morning, and he had only come home to shower and take a nap before heading back to the Ministry. “You should go back to Hogwarts.”

“Absolutely not,” Albus said, pulling on his jacket. “I’m going with you.”

“You’re a  _student_ ,” Harry reminded him. “And I can’t be putting you in danger out there while you’re worried like this.”

“I’m not in danger,” Albus said. “We’ll find him. If it’s my safety you’re thinking about, I’m not worried. I’m with you.”

Harry cringed, but Albus wasn’t sure if it was because he was clearly unconvinced or if it was something else.

“Al -”

“Dad, I can’t go back to Hogwarts,” Albus said, raising his voice. “I have never been at Hogwarts without him, and I refuse to go back until he’s safe.”

Ginny, who was sitting on the counter, looked from her husband to her son. Harry looked back at her.

“Well?”

Ginny sighed and looked at Albus, whose eyes were pleading, and when she spoke to her husband, she did so quietly and gently.

“Don’t do to him what you did do me,” Ginny said to Harry.

Harry sighed, clearly overruled.

“Fine,” Harry said. “But if I tell you to do something -”

“I’ll do it. I just want to help.”

Harry set his empty mug down.

“Mum, I don’t have any of my things. I’m out of clothes -”

“I’ll take you to Hogwarts to pick up some of your things,” she said. “And then you can go meet your father at the Ministry.”

Harry nodded, stifling a yawn.

“We’ll start at seven,” he said.

* * *

 

Albus walked into his dormitory quickly, determined to be out as soon as possible and not at all interested in keeping the noise down. He turned the lanterns lining the room up, and the three other boys woke with a start.

“What the hell?”

Flint rubbed his eyes as Pucey and Farley stood up.

“Did you find him?” Flint said urgently, climbing out of bed.

“No,” Albus said, grabbing his rucksack from under his bed. He began ripping his clothes from his wardrobe quickly and indiscriminately. “I’m just picking up a few things.”

Pucey and Farley crawled out of their beds too as Albus stuffed his rucksack full of everything he thought he could need, trying not to look at Scorpius’ bed until he had to.

“Do you have any idea what happened?”

Albus shook his head, changing into a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. “No more than what we had to go on in Hogsmeade.”

Albus sat down and took off his Quidditch boots - the only shoes he’d had with him - and exchanged them for a pair of trainers before walking over to Scorpius’ wardrobe and pulling out a few pairs of his pajamas and jeans and his favorite sweater.

 _He’ll want them when we find him_ , Albus told himself. He shoved the clothes in his bag, but thought better of it and pulled the sweater on, zipping it up.

The collar still smelled like him, and it was the most depressing, comforting thing Albus could imagine.

“Can we help?” Farley asked. “Can’t we just leave with you?”

“No,” Albus said. “The only reason I’m involved is because my dad is allowing it, and that took some doing.”

Albus pulled the drawstring tight on the bag and reached under Scorpius’ bed, pulling out Freya’s carrier and shaking it out. He scooped Freya off the bed and urged her into it despite her hissing protests.

“You know, I love animals,” Albus said. “I’m good with animals. This cat can't sand me.”

“She’s jealous because her owner likes you better.”

“I’m taking her to the Malfoy Manor,” Albus said. “He’ll want her if we...”

Albus stopped and shook his head.

“ _When_  you find him,” Pucey said.

“Send me owls with notes and our class assignments so I at least know what we’re catching up on,” Albus said.

“Can do,” said Flint. “It’s almost time to go home for the break anyway.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Albus said. He grabbed his things and scooped up Freya’s carrier, earning him an agitated meow and a hiss.

“Oh, shut up,” he said to the cat. He looked back to his friends. “I’ll let you know when we find something.”

“ _As soon_  as you know anything,” Farley said. The others nodded in agreement.

“Right. I’ll... see you all soon,” Albus said, backing out of the room. As comforting as it had been to see them, he knew he had to get to the Ministry by seven or Harry would leave him behind.

“Be careful, Al,” Pucey said.

“Careful isn’t going to find him,” Albus called back as he left.

Ginny was waiting outside the Slytherin common room.

“Is that everything?”

“No,” Albus said, walking down the hallway. Ginny, being several inches shorter, struggled to keep up. “One more thing.”

Albus led her down several corridors and past the still life that led to the kitchens to a large pile of oversized barrels. Albus threw his things down and set Freya’s cage on the ground before counting them and banging on the one he’d selected.

Albus pounded on the lid of the barrel over and over again.

“What on earth are you doing?” Ginny asked.

Before Albus could answer, a sleepy Hufflepuff girl opened the door.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s urgent,” Albus said. “Can you get me Ainsley Greengrass?”

“Yeah,” the Hufflepuff said, rubbing her eyes. “Yeah, hold on.”

Albus folded his arms, trying to ignore the scent of Scorpius’ soap on the sweater, and waited silently until Ainsley appeared in her pajamas, putting her glasses on.

“Albus?”

She looked terrible.

“Come here,” Albus said, leading her out of the portal. She followed him into the hallway where he turned and set both of his hands on her shoulders so she had to listen.

“What happened is not your fault,” he said clearly.

Ainsley’s lower lip quivered as she looked up at him, and Ginny watched her son in the distance.

“You got caught in the middle of something,” Albus continued. “If you hadn’t been with him, they would have taken him. If he’d been in a group, they would have waited - whoever  _they_  are.”

“I - I couldn’t help, Al,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry. I tried.”

“I know you did,” Albus said. “No one doubts that you did the best you could. There was nothing more you or anyone could have done.”

“Why didn’t they take me too?”

“I don’t know,” Albus said, shaking his head. He hated doing this to her - making her cry - and when she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked away, Albus saw the resemblance to Scorpius and cringed.

“We’re going to find him, Ainsley.”

She just nodded, and Albus pulled her into a tight hug.

“It’s not your fault. I needed you to know that.”

He felt her nod against his chest and he released her.

“I’m sorry I had to wake you,” he said as she backed up, wiping tears away. “I’ll let you know when we find something.”

Ainsley nodded and thanked him, and when she walked back to the Hufflepuff portal, he heard her greet his mother politely before disappearing down the hall.

“Do you really think it wouldn’t have been different if you or someone else had been with him,” Ginny asked.

Albus scooped Freya and his rucksack off the ground, ready to go.

“If I’d been with him, I’d probably be dead.”

* * *

 

When dawn came, Scorpius was pulled back up to the drawing room. Selwyn had given him fresh clothes and allowed him a brief moment in the bathroom to rinse off, but nothing more.

“Good morning,” Daphne said once again, setting her copy of  _The Daily Prophet_ back in her lap.

“Is it?” Scorpius muttered. She shot him a glare, and he had to check the impulse to apologize. He wasn’t sorry.

“I trust you got some rest,” she said.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Scorpius said. He’d spent the night staring out the small window at the little patch of sky he could see, too tired to move but too uncomfortable to sleep.

He stood in front of her as Selwyn unlocked his restraints and stretched his shoulders once his arms were free.

“I think we should continue from yesterday,” Daphne said. Scorpius stared at her.

“How so?”

Daphne pointed to a book on top of the desk.

“If you can make that levitate for five minutes straight, you can have breakfast.”

Scorpius stared at her.

“Can you fix my glasses first so I can focus?” Scorpius asked.

Daphne made a  _tsk_  sound and shook her head.

“Don’t be needy.”

Scorpius looked from her to the book and took a deep breath, seeing no other path but to comply.

“There’s a very good chance I’ll set the book on fire,” Scorpius warned her.

Daphne went back to reading the  _Prophet_ , bored.

“Then you won’t get breakfast.”

* * *

 

Albus had a bad feeling when they got to the Selwyn estate. It was clearly inhabited - house elves were trimming the hedges in preparation for Christmas and he could see movement through the house’s mostly-glass front, but snow-clouds hung heavy over the sky and the wind had turned bitter again.

“How well do you know the Selwyns?”

“I met Angus’ brother several times,” Draco admitted. “Nasty piece of work.”

“I think he killed my owl, Hedwig,” Harry said.

“I never told you this,” Draco said, “but that owl was bloody beautiful.”

They walked up the steps to the house.

“Hagrid got her for me for my eleventh birthday,” Harry said. “First real birthday present I ever had.”

“He had better taste than I thought,” Draco said, slamming the door knocker three times. “Also, that’s terribly depressing.”

Harry just shrugged, and Albus shook his head, wrapping Scorpius’ sweater tighter around himself.

“That is terribly depressing,” he said to his father.

A woman a bit older than Harry opened the door, her hair graying around the temples, with a dirty apron on over her dress.

“Can I help you?” she asked coldly. Harry folded his arms.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Harry said. “I’m Harry Potter, and I’m with -”

“I know who you are,” she interrupted, glancing at Draco and Albus. “What do you want?”

“I want to ask you a few questions about Angus Selwyn. Are you related?”

“He’s my husband,” she said.

Albus and Draco exchanged looks, but said nothing.

“Do you mind if we come in and take a look around?”

“You can if you come back with a warrant,” she said defiantly.

“Ma’am, a young man is missing,” Harry said. “We think your husband may have been involved.”

“And when you find the no-good, cheating bastard, maybe he’ll let you in.”

She stepped back to slam the door shut, but Draco held out his hand and stopped her.

“Any idea where we might find him?”

Mrs. Selwyn glared at Draco.

“Probably with that Greengrass whore. Go to her with your questions.”

Draco released the door, taken aback, and she slammed it quickly. Albus heard the click of the lock from the other side.

“Daphne?” Draco said.

“Are there any other Greengrass women that you know of?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head.

“Only Daphne,” he said. “And her daughter.”

“Ainsley had nothing to do with this,” Albus defended, “but it would explain why she was spared.”

He and Draco looked to one another and nodded.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

* * *

 

After finding the sole record for Daphne Greengrass in the Ministry archives, Harry, Draco, and Albus went to through the nearest public Floo network fireplace. It was getting late when they walked up the street in a wealthy London neighborhood where children were playing outside, already out of school for the holiday.

“It doesn’t feel like Christmas,” Albus said grimly.

“It’s not going to,” Draco replied.

Harry pointed at the largest house on the block, sitting comfortably on a corner lot.

“That’s it,” he said.

“Do you really think your sister-in-law is involved?” Albus asked.

“Daphne is a nasty piece of work,” Draco said, “but I can’t imagine her actually hurting her own kin.”

They approached the front door and Harry knocked before stepping back, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck.

Daphne Greengrass opened the door, and Draco couldn’t have looked less pleased to see her.

“Oh, Draco,” she said, shaking her head in sympathy. “I heard about Scorpius. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Draco replied formally. “I believe you’ve met Harry Potter and his son, Albus.”

“We were hoping we could talk to you about his disappearance,” Harry said. “In case you might have heard anything that might help.”

Daphne’s eyes raked over Harry and Albus with clear disdain, but she stepped back to let them in anyway.

Albus looked around. Her home was sterile and white with only abstract paintings on the walls - no family photos or anything personal.

“Elf,” she called into the house. “Get our guests some tea. Quickly.”

Albus looked at Harry and saw that his father looked deeply uncomfortable.

Daphne led them into the sitting room, and once again Albus found himself sitting between Harry and Draco.

“It’s just awful,” Daphne said.

 _She has the Greengrass hands_ , Albus observed. Long, lithe fingers.  _Scorpius’ hands._

“What have you been doing lately, Daphne?” Draco asked.

Harry looked at Draco and met Albus’ eyes for only a brief moment, but Albus knew to be quiet.

“Oh, you know,” she said with a smile. “The usual. Trying to help some of the pure-blood families get back on their feet. Rebuilding is a long process.”

She looked at Harry just long enough that Albus shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

“Do you know of anyone you’ve talked to who would kidnap my son?” Draco asked. “There are a few names being passed around of those who might be involved. Nott. Selwyn. Yaxley. Travers. Have you heard anything?”

Daphne shook her head as the nameless House Elf brought in tea and set it on the table before scurrying off. She gestured for them to take it, and they did. Albus pretended to take a sip, not taking his eyes from her.

“I haven’t heard anything,” Daphne said, drawing her legs up beneath her and leaning comfortably into the arm of her chair.

“I wasn’t sure,” Draco said. “I’d heard you and Angus Selwyn were friends - maybe he’d mentioned a relation who was... having trouble adjusting. Even after all this time.”

Daphne shook her head again. “No. I haven’t seen Angus in months now. We were never really close, you know.”

Draco sighed in defeat.

“I just can’t figure out who would want to hurt him,” he said, looking at Harry as he leaned back into the sofa. “He’s such a kind boy.”

“I suppose there are some who still take issue with how much some of the families have changed,” Daphne said, as if she didn’t understand it herself, but she was a poor actress and a nervous tick above her eye betrayed her.

 _She knows something_ , Albus thought.

Draco took another sip of his tea. “I thought Scorpius was fortunate to come from two secure families. I never imagined something like this would happen.”

“You never do,” Daphne said piteously. “I’m sure Ainsley is in a quite a state over it.”

Albus bit his tongue hard enough that it bled.

The rest of the conversation was pleasantries until Draco’s teacup was empty and he set it aside.

“I suppose we’ll be going,” he said, looking to Harry coldly. “We’ll need to be seeing if the Ministry has managed to find anything.”

“That would be a shock,” Daphne replied. She smiled snidely at Harry. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Harry replied stiffly, standing. “We’ll be going now, then. Send us an owl if you hear of anything that could be of importance.”

“Of course, I will,” said Daphne. “I do hope you find him. It would be a shame for Astoria’s only child to be stricken from the family tree.”

Draco said his goodbyes, cool and calm, and let the Potters outside and up the street in silence. It wasn’t until they reached the next block that any of them spoke.

“She knows something,” Albus said through gritted teeth.

“She knows more than something,” Draco replied, stopping to look at the Potters. “What do we do?”

“There is no way I can dig up enough for a warrant,” Harry said. “Not with that conversation?”

“Can’t we just break in and search the house?” Albus asked, impatient.

 _It’s been two days,_  he thought.  _Anything could have happened._

“No,” Harry said. “Although this time I’d like to. The best thing we can do is set up surveillance and wait for something to come up while we keep digging.”

“That is completely insufficient,” Draco said.

“I know,” Harry answered. “But it’s the best we have.”

* * *

 

Scorpius hadn’t earned breakfast. He’d managed to levitate the book for two minutes before it burst into flames.

He hadn’t earned lunch, either. There were scorch marks atop the desk now.

He sat back against the column with his hands in his lap. At least they’d cuffed him in the front this time.

When he heard footsteps on the stairs, he scrambled to get up.

“Sit down,” said Pansy Parkinson. “I’ll only be here for a minute.”

“What are you doing here?”

She withdrew a wrapped sandwich from her robes and handed it to him.

“You need to eat,” she said.

At this point, Scorpius didn’t much care where the food came from, and he took it gratefully, ripping off the paper and taking a huge bite.

“Just... don’t tell Daphne that I gave it to you, okay?”

Scorpius looked up at her, confused, and she only met his eyes for a second before turning and leaving him in the dark.

 


	22. Responsible

**7 days**

In the time that Scorpius had been missing, the Ministry of Magic had helped the muggle police find at least three missing teenagers across England.

None of them were Scorpius.

Albus sat in the stolen invisibility cloak, behind the bushes across from Daphne Greengrass’ house. He sat there for hours on end, staring, watching through the window as she disapparated and apparated twice.

He sat there so long that he knew who the Ministry patrols were walking up and down the street, watching.

Every minute he hadn’t been visiting pure-bloods and former Death Eaters with Harry and Draco, asking the same questions over and over again, he’d been here, watching.

He sat there and waited, because at some point, something had to happen.

* * *

 

Thirty minutes. She asked for thirty minutes of keeping the chair at least a meter above the floor, and he’d given her twenty-eight before his energy had waned. It earned him a slap across the face.

“You’re weak, just like your father,” Daphne spat at him. “No wonder Lucius hated you.”

Scorpius took the abuse calmly.

 _They’re looking for me_.

* * *

 

**10 days**

Albus didn’t care that it was Christmas Eve, or that is family had asked him to at least come home for dinner. He paced outside Daphne Greengrass’ home, avoiding the flow of muggles as they went on their way, carrying presents for their loved ones.

“No more information,” Harry had said that morning. “Do you want to come to the Ministry with me?”

Albus had told him no - that he was going to stay at home, knowing no one would miss him if he pretended to go for a long walk in the forest. Instead, he’d grabbed James’ old broom, and thrown in the invisibility cloak, and slipped out the back door.

He paced. Looking inside the windows, watching the doors. Daphne came and went as she pleased, never using the front door - never going near the muggles.

He listened as the muggles passed him by, talking about their Christmas Eve plans and their excitement to see family, and tried not to think about last year’s dinner with Scorpius and Draco when they’d laughed in front of the fireplace, holding hands in front of their families for the first time.

Albus played with the amulet around his neck as he watched in the window, trying to ignore the very real ache in his chest.

Daphne was pacing in her living room. She’d just apparated back from somewhere, and she looked concerned, but was quiet until someone stepped out of the fireplace.

It took Albus a minute to put a name to the face. He’d seen it before in passing - someone his dad had pointed out as a former classmate - and in old school photos.

“Pansy Parkinson?”

A muggle passing by turned her head, but couldn’t place where the words had come from, so she shuffled along, an elaborate Christmas wreath in her hands.

* * *

 

Albus landed in front of the Malfoy Manor and threw off the invisibility cloak. He marched up the steps, broom in hand, and pounded on the door until he heard the noise echo back to him through the house. Pokey opened the door and looked up at him.

“Master Albus!”

“I need to see Draco. Now.”

“He’s in the drawing room, sir.”

Albus ran into the house and toward the room where he found Draco with books, papers, and maps spread out across a long mahogany table. He was bent over a book, thumbing through it.

“Albus?”

“Pansy Parkinson is involved,” he said. “Whatever this is. I saw her - she was at Daphne’s house in London. They looked tense”

“You’ve been watching Daphne’s house?”

“Every second I haven’t been asleep or with you and dad.”

Draco folded his arms.

“That’s a very serious accusation,” Draco said. “Are you sure it was her?”

“I’m like... ninety-five percent positive.”

Draco stared at him for a moment.

“I know your father is still working, but why aren’t you with your family?”

“Because a part of my family is still missing,” Albus said quickly. “The longer he’s gone, the worse it is. I’m not stupid, it’s what everyone’s trying not to say in front of me. Now can we please go talk to Pansy?”

Draco nodded slowly.

“She might be at her house,” Draco said. “But I don’t know if she’ll talk to me if I show up with you, and I know she won’t if your father is with me.”

Albus held up the invisibility cloak, and Draco nodded before drinking the rest of his brandy and dusting off his hands.

“Put on that infernal blanket, and let’s go.”

* * *

 

Draco apparated them both to the Parkinson Estate well outside of London. It was smaller than the numerous others and much more plain, but to Albus’ eyes it was still a castle.

“You have to be silent,” Draco warned.

“I know,” Albus said. “Do you have any idea how many times Scorpius and I have used this thing?”

Draco stared at him, baffled.

“I don’t want to know.”

“No, not like that!”

Albus followed Draco up to the door and stayed close behind him, intent on hearing everything, and when he knocked, Draco whispered -

“I’m not going to sound like myself when I’m in here,” he warned. “Not like you’ve known me. Please don’t think ill of me. And... keep your wand ready.”

Pansy Parkinson opened the door, and Albus got the confirmation he needed – she was the woman he’d seen through the window. She was wearing a black velvet robe and was clutching a glass of wine.

“Draco?”

Draco took a deep breath.

“Pansy.”

“What on earth are you doing here?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s Christmas Eve. My son is missing. I had nowhere else to go.”

 _That’s a lie_ , Albus thought.  _Mum invited him over at least five times._

Pansy, somewhat reluctant, stepped back and let Draco in, and Albus was careful to slip through the door silently behind him before it closed.

“I’m sure you have other friends, Draco.”

“Not really,” he replied. Albus followed as she led him into her sitting room.

_What is it with the wealthy and their sitting rooms?_

She gestured for him to sit in one of the armchairs by the fire. She removed an open book from her own seat before taking it. Albus noticed she held onto her drink.

“You’ve heard about Scorpius, I trust.”

“Of course,” Pansy said. She didn’t look at him, and instead swirled the wine around in the glass until it almost spilled over the rim. “It’s awful. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“I’ve heard that so many times over the last week,” Draco said coldly. Albus noticed his voice was drastically different now. He’d adopted a cool, lazy drawl and half-a-sneer that Albus just didn’t like. “It’s exhausting.”

“Well, I do mean it, for what it’s worth,” Pansy said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like you had anything to do with it,” Draco said coolly. Albus noticed Pansy didn’t respond, and she didn’t move.

Draco leaned forward, pressing his hands together.

“A lot of people call you a blood traitor now,” Pansy said. “That’s what they think, and that Scorpius is even worse.”

“He’s a child,” Draco said. “It’s a phase.”

Albus raised his eyebrows. He clutched the handle of his wand tightly.

“I suppose that could be true,” Pansy said. “We all have  _phases_  around that age.”

Draco turned in her direction, but didn’t look at her.

“For what it’s worth, I do regret my actions.”

“It was a long time ago,” Pansy said, staring into the fire. “There’s no need.”

“Still,” Draco pressed. “I am sorry.”

“So am I.”

Albus watched as they looked at one another, and he was certain that some forgiveness - for what, he didn’t know - passed between them.

“Do you have any idea who might have taken my son?”

Pansy shook her head.

“None at all?”

“I read what was in the  _Prophet_ ,” she said. “It must have been one of the old families.”

Draco paused. “Must have been.”

Albus could see the color rising in her neck as she pressed her lips together, uncomfortable, looking into the fire.

“Maybe you should check all of the ancestral homes,” she said slowly. “Maybe that’s where he’s been taken.”

“I just think about him all alone out there,” Draco said. “He’s the last Malfoy. Without him...”

Draco shook his head and looked down.

“He’s different. I’m not sure how long he’ll last out there on his own, wherever he is. And whether or not he’s the grandson my father wanted, he’s what I have.”

Albus listened, horrified. He knew exactly what Draco was doing, but hearing the words was more difficult than he’d anticipated.

“I’d keep looking, Draco,” she said finally, her voice bordering on something like sympathy. “He must be out there somewhere.”

* * *

 

“What the hell was that? _It’s a phase_?”

Albus threw off the invisibility cloak once they’d apparated. He’d expected to find himself back in the Malfoy Manor, but instead he was outside his parent’s front door.

“I was appealing to the little prat child she remembered,” Draco said. He knocked on the Potters’ front door, and Albus balled up the cloak quickly and shoved it under Scorpius’ sweater, folding his arms over the bulk.

“And all that about Scorpius being weak?”

“Scorpius is far from weak, Albus,” Draco assured him. “I was appealing to her sense of pure-blood pride.”

Still, Albus couldn’t look him in the eye just yet, and when his mother opened the door, she found the two men pointedly avoiding looking at each other.

“And where the hell have you both been?” Ginny grabbed Albus by the arm and pulled him inside. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” Draco said. “It’s my fault. He was helping me go through some documents.”

Albus raised his eyebrows at him behind Ginny’s back as she turned and looked at him.

“I sincerely hope that’s all it was and that you weren’t doing anything dangerous.”

Draco shook his head.

“No. I did go talk to Pansy Parkinson. I heard she and Daphne Greengrass were still close, and I think she might be involved.”

“Come in, Draco.”

Albus entered the house to find his family around the table, eating a much smaller version of their usual family feast. Harry had clearly just arrived, and he was still windswept and tired looking. The rest of the family had finished their meal, and he’d only begun.

“Albus? Draco?”

“Pansy Parkinson is involved,” Draco said.

“How so?” Harry asked, getting up from the table. He and Draco moved into the sitting room as Draco began telling him about the conversation, and Albus slipped off to rid himself of the invisibility cloak. When he returned, Draco was explaining that Pansy referenced the old families and their ancestral homes.

“We kept the ‘blood traitor’ and ‘family duty’ bits out of the  _Prophet_ ,” Harry said, “as a part of an ongoing investigation.”

“Exactly,” Draco said. “So she knows more than she’s letting on. Maybe she can’t tell us. Maybe she’s scared, and I’m inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt -”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“I just am,” Draco responded. “She’s not as awful as everyone, including me, made her out to be. She’s just... very easy to manipulate.”

“So what do we do now?”

Harry looked at Albus when he spoke.

“First, we get the Ministry to watch Pansy Parkinson as discretely as possible,” said Harry. “Without concrete evidence, there’s only so much we can do -”

Albus felt a hand on his shoulder.

“But having the Minister as an aunt doesn’t hurt,” Hermione said. “I’ll divert what I can within the law.”

“And then?” Albus asked.

“And then we shake down every house we haven’t gotten to yet, and we keep going further down the list until we run out of places to go.

* * *

 

Scorpius hadn’t heard a single sound from upstairs for a while. He had worked out that there was only one occupant of the house at all times, but whoever was keeping an eye on him - or at least the dungeon door - wasn’t moving around a whole lot.

He’d been sitting against the pillar for hours now - exhausted and sore. He’d been given plenty of water, but little food, since he refused to sit down and recite Daphne’s pure-blood doctrine for the last few days.

“Magic is might,” were three words he wasn’t interested in believing.

He’d stopped feeling hungry days ago, and now he was just tired all the time. When they cuffed him and threw him back downstairs, he felt like ants were crawling all over his skin as the nervous energy that was keeping him going bottled up.

 _They’re coming for me_ , he told himself. He pictured his father and Albus with Mr. Potter yelling at law enforcement officers and threatening witches and wizards across England with death if they didn’t give them information.

He heard footsteps and looked up but didn’t move. He didn’t have the energy or the will, but when he saw that his visitor was Pansy, brandishing a lantern and a plate, he perked up.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” she told him. “Everyone deserves a decent meal on Christmas Eve.”

She crouched down and set the plate on the floor for him, along with a large bottle of water.

Scorpius had endured a lot of silent hours in the dungeon, giving him time to think. He knew Pansy Parkinson was his father’s Hogwarts girlfriend, and he decided that it was time he used that to his advantage.

“Have you seen my dad?” he asked.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t look at him either. That didn’t seem to be something she enjoyed.

“So you have.”

“He’s worried about you,” she said.

“Is he okay? Did you tell him where I am?” he asked as he started picking at the food. Cold ham and a potato could get him through at least two days.

“No,” she said. “I didn’t.”

“Can you tell me why you’re helping her, at least?” Scorpius said. “I know my father cared about you when he was my age.”

Pansy looked at him, and Scorpius could only imagine how gaunt and dirty his appearance was. He knew how awful he’d looked when he and Albus had broken up, and that was with regular showers and three meals a day.

“I lost everything in the war,” she told him. “And Daphne... she makes big promises.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Scorpius said. “There were a lot of innocent people who suffered because of the war, and a lot of pure-bloods lost everything.”

“They did,” she agreed. “And I think Daphne might be able to lead us back to where we were. And if she says you’re a crucial part of this plan’s success, then I believe her.”

“Do you really think that her torturing me is the best way?”

“She’s making you stronger,” Pansy said. “Something your father never did. With your mother gone, she feels personally responsible.”

Pansy stood up abruptly and walked back to the door, but paused and looked back before leaving.

“I hope someday you’ll understand.”

The door shut again and Scorpius hung his head. His father was spending Christmas alone and the thought was unbearable. It frustrated him, and his skin crawled and the energy bottled up inside him until he couldn't think, and then Albus' face came into his mind and he felt the tears coming down his face, wishing he could do something - anything.

And when he opened his eyes, all the dust and pebbles on the floor and the food Pansy had brought and his threadbare blanket were levitating a few inches off the floor in an orbit around him. Scorpius tugged at the restraints and found that they were secure.

Scorpius looked around at the magic he was doing through the cursed cuffs, and his arms burned, but it was still working.

He got to his feet, marveling through the pain. He had work to do. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close, guys. Don't worry.
> 
> But there's something you need to know.
> 
>  
> 
> **THERE WILL BE NO UPDATE TOMORROW.**
> 
>  
> 
> And let me tell you why.
> 
> I've mentioned in the comments that I'm from Florida, and that means it's time for a trip to Universal and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.
> 
> I will be thinking of you lovelies while I'm drinking my pumpkin juice and sweating in the hundred-degree heat while in Hogsmeade pretending that the snow they stupidly put on top of the buildings in Florida is real.
> 
> I've also written over 60,000 words in less than twenty days while also working, which is very computer based and my hands need a break.
> 
> See you on Sunday.
> 
>  


	23. Shocks

**12 Days**

Something had opened up or broken inside Scorpius on Christmas Eve and he wasn’t sure which. He’d been experimenting at night with working through the cursed restraints, and during the day he devoted himself to more and more difficult feats.

He sat on the floor of the drawing room with every single piece of furniture in the air. He was cross-legged and breathing slowly with his eyes closed, his face relaxed and calm, though his wrists had burning red rings around them where the cuffs had fought him the night before.

“Very nice,” said Daphne. Today, all four of his captors were present, and Scorpius kept making a point to make eye contact with Pansy Parkinson, who was at least somewhat sympathetic.

Scorpius set all of the furniture down gently. He was exhausted, but not entirely beat.

  
Selwyn moved a chair to the center of the room and Daphne gestured for him to take it. When Scorpius stood, he caught a glimpse of himself in an old, tarnished mirror that hung askew on the wall, and for a moment, he was glad Albus couldn’t see him like this - thin and dirty with blood under his ear - a side effect of overexerting himself in the evenings.

Scorpius sat down in the chair, and as Daphne walked in front of him, he saw that she had his wand in her hands. As she paced before him, she tapped it against her palm, taunting.

“I’m wondering if you’ve had enough time to rethink your stance on a few things,” she said.

“Like?”

She bent over before him to look him in the eye.

“I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you believe pure-bloods are superior to the blood traitors and mudbloods. I want you to tell me that you respect your duty as a Greengrass and a Malfoy to work towards the goal of pure-blood advancement, and that you’ll continue your family line.”

Scorpius knew he could kill her right there. All he had to do was reach out and wrap his hands around her neck and summon enough electricity to shock her. Or he could summon the water from the pond outside - one he hadn’t seen, but when he closes his eyes he could sense the still water - and freeze her in a sphere of ice. Or he could set her on fire.

Scorpius knew he could, but Selwyn and Travers were near with their wands ready, and he knew killing Daphne would be the last thing he did, and while he wasn’t entirely certain death wasn’t preferable to his current circumstances, he thought of his father and Albus and put away the idea.

“No,” Scorpius said.

“No?”

“No,” he repeated and sighed when Daphne straightened and looked to her comrades.

“Parkinson?”

Scorpius looked at Pansy, his eyes dead and tired, and she shook her head.

“I’m no good at the unforgivables,” she said. “Let one of them do it.”

Pansy turned and left the room, her robes trailing behind her. Selwyn stepped forward and Scorpius closed his eyes, trying to focus on a happy memory before the pain started. He pictured Albus wrapping the blanket tighter around their shoulders and kissing his forehead between chapters of  _Wuthering Heights,_ and it was enough to dull the pain for a few seconds more.

* * *

 

**15 Days**

Albus bent over the Malfoy Manor table, a mug of coffee under his hand. His father was at his side, pouring through reports while Draco paced back and forth across the room, letting his eyes take a break from reading. The sun was setting on the icy, dead landscape visible through the study window, and Albus checked his watch. He’d been up for nearly 24-hours straight.

“That’s three houses today,” Harry said, throwing the file down. “We’re running out of places to look.”

Fifteen of the old homes. Some of the families had let them in - let the great Harry Potter search for clues. Others had not, forcing Albus to find other points of entry. He was glad that invisibility cloak was impervious to rips and stains.

“There’s got to be something we’re missing,” said Albus, rubbing his jaw, thinking that he needed to shave, but then deciding that would be a waste of valuable time. He flipped the pages on the oldest tome they could find in the archives - the ones Scorpius was supposed to work at - scanning names and dates and places where wizards had lived across Europe.

 _You’d love it here, Scorp,_ Albus had thought as he walked through the stacks.  _Please be alive so you can come here._

Albus, distractedly flipped through the pages. The details of Scorpius’ face were getting farther and farther away from him now, but he could see him pulling parchment from the shelves, excitedly pushing his glasses up on his nose, talking to the other historians. Albus skimmed name after name in the register as he pictured Scorpius compiling information and giving lectures in jackets with elbow patches, and when nothing jumped out at him on the current age, he flipped to another -

Out of the corner of his eye, Albus thought he saw Ainsley Greengrass’ name in the 400-year-old book, but that couldn’t be right.

He knew he was tired when he flipped back to the page and located the record. Gringras of Annesley, Nottinghamshire.

 _Gringrass of Annesley_ , he thought.

He read the entry, which indicated the family had immigrated from France in the early 1600s.

“Draco, how long as Daphne been obsessed with her family line?”

Draco turned and shrugged.

“All the pure-blood families were obsessed with it when Voldemort was coming to power,” Draco said. “They had to be. That information was key.”

Albus stared down at the book, open-mouthed.

“We hadn’t gone back far enough,” he said quietly. “I… I know where he is.”

“What do you mean?” Draco demanded quickly, arriving at his side.

“We were looking for the names as they are now,” Albus said, his eyes still glued to the page. “Not how they could have changed over time.”

He slid the book over to Harry and pointed at the line before throwing papers off the desk in a search.

“I need a map!”

Draco looked over Harry’s shoulder.

“The Gingras family of Annesley?”

“Annesley Gringras,” Albus said. “Ainsley Greengrass! She named Ainsley after the Gingras family’s original home when they came to England. The name just changed over the years when it was anglicized.”

Draco and Harry stared at him in surprise.

“What?” Albus said to Draco. “Your bookworm son rubbed off on me. Maybe I learned a couple things.”

Albus pulled the map across the table when he found it, sending his coffee cup to the ground where it shattered. He looked over every inch of the map until he found the name.

“I know where he is,” Albus said, pointing. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt warm for the first time in weeks.

“We know where he is!”

“Albus,” Harry said skeptically. “There’s a good chance that’s a coincidence.”

“It’s where he is, dad,” Albus said. “I know it. I know it is.”

Draco considered Albus for a moment while Harry looked at the map.

“Draco,” Albus said earnestly, gripping the cuffs of Scorpius’ sweater. “I know that’s where he is.”

“We have to go, Potter,” Draco said.

Harry straightened and looked at them both.

“We should bring backup,” he said.

“No,” said Draco. “It’s safer for Scorpius if we don’t. What if they hurt him before we can get to him? If he really is there.”

Draco backtracked as if he didn’t dare get too optimistic, his face restrained.

“Dad,” Albus pled. “We have to go. Now. We’re wasting time.”

Finally, Harry nodded.

“I think we do,” he said. The three men grabbed their wands from the table.

“How do we get there?” Albus asked. “We can’t apparate. None of us have been there before.”

“Take the Floo network to the nearest settlement,” Draco said. "We’ll fly from there.”

Draco handed Harry and Albus their coats. Albus buttoned himself in and put his wand safely in his pocket as Harry looked through the Floo Network map and Draco retied his ponytail.

“I think I’ve got it,” Harry said. Albus summoned three brooms from a rack in the corner, and they each caught one before walking toward the fireplace.

* * *

 

Albus knew the moment they passed the wards. An old manor sat on a flat plane in the distance down a long and broken path. It made the Travers manor look like a pristine castle.

“I don’t know that anyone would be in there,” Harry said skeptically. “It doesn’t look like it’s been touched in centuries.”

“We still have to check,” Draco said.

It took an eternity for to reach the manor, and Albus was already shivering. The light from the sun was barely visible when they’d flown from the next village over since Annesley was too small to have its own Floo destination. Clearly, no wizards or witches had lived nearby for years.

The front steps were covered in leaves and dirt, and when Harry pushed the ajar door open, a sheet of dust came down.

“Oh, hello.”

Harry had his wand out before Draco and Albus even noticed the other person in the room. Daphne Greengrass stood in the dirty atrium with a smile on her face, near a door to an adjacent room.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Albus saw Draco arrange his expression into one of indifference and irritation at his companions.

“I could ask you the same question,” Daphne said, walking towards them.

“We’re  _still_  investigating the disappearance of my son,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. He strode past Harry to meet Daphne. Albus clutched his wand so tightly in his pocket that he feared it might break, his eyes still adjusting to the light. There were lanterns lit all around the atrium and in the edges of every room he could see.

“And you’re looking here?” Daphne asked, amused.

“Potter has it in his head that we have to check every house ever inhabited by a wizard,” Draco said dismissively. “I’m only coming along to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.”

Harry was clearly offended. Albus didn’t take his eyes off Daphne.

“Well, I can assure you that he isn’t here,” Daphne said. “This place is a wreck. It’s the oldest Greengrass home in England, you know.”

“That’s what Potter said,” Draco told her. “Though I wasn’t sure he had his facts straight.”

Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by voices echoing down the hall. She called to them.

“Come out here! We have company.”

Instantly, the voices fell silent, and after a moment, Selwyn, Travers, and Parkinson appeared. Albus watched as Pansy froze, her eyes wide beneath her bangs as she stared at Draco, whose expression tightened for only a moment before he reassumed his bored drawl.

“And what are you all doing here?” Draco asked.

“I was thinking about restoring this place to its former glory, and asked some friends to come along and give me their thoughts,” Daphne said, gesturing to the grand stone atrium. “It’s high time we start bringing the old pure-blood homes back to what they once were.”

“I see,” said Draco, looking around. He folded his hands behind his back and looked up at the ceiling. “It certainly has some potential. Especially if you can keep that original chandelier. I bet it was beautiful in its day.”

“Draco,” Harry said. “If Scorpius isn’t here -”

“I just want to look for a moment,  _Potter_ ,” Draco sneered. Daphne giggled.

“Just for a moment. I want Draco’s opinion,” said Daphne. “He always did have excellent taste.”

As they talked a few meters away, Harry stood perfectly still, and Albus followed suit.

Had he been wrong? He’d been so certain when it had clicked in his mind, but maybe he was too exhausted now to differentiate between information and desperation. Maybe he was wrong and Scorpius was nowhere near...

Draco gave a loud, fake laugh at something Travers said and his voice echoed throughout the empty house and Albus felt something tighten in his chest.

_What if he isn’t out there?_

  
He’d tried not to think it for the last two weeks, but the thought kept inching into his mind, and now he couldn’t shake it away. Two long, cold, lonely weeks, and he was beginning to lose faith. If this is what Draco Malfoy was like as a child, maybe someone  _had_ killed Scorpius as an act of revenge.

Albus closed his eyes, trying to hold himself together, and saw Scorpius’ body in the snow, covered in ice, and he let out a long, slow, shuddering breath -

And then it happened.

A single shock ran up his leg and it felt familiar - too familiar, and he thought instantly of the Malfoy library and the feeling of the sparks coming from Scorpius’ hands, hitting his skin. He thought of how it felt when Scorpius burned him by the black lake, and his eyes went wide. He held his breath.

A moment later, Draco bid Daphne and the others a good evening, making it clear that he would  _love_  to see the place once it was renovated, and turned on his heel, walking back towards the Potters.

“I suppose we should go,” Draco said, loudly enough for the others to hear. “There’s nothing here.”

Harry met Albus’ eyes as they turned and he mouthed “let’s go,” but Albus didn’t move. In the distance, Daphne and the others were talking to one another, and they were  _smiling._

Albus caught Draco’s arm when he got near, still staring at Daphne’s back.

“He’s here,” Albus whispered as quietly as he could.

Draco looked at him.

“Are you certain?”

Albus felt another shock run up his leg.

“Positive,” Albus swallowed. His entire body was shaking now. “How do we do this?”

“ _Quietly,”_ Draco whispered before turning around.

“Actually,” he began, walking back across the atrium to the group. “Pansy, can I speak with you? Alone? Just for a moment.”

Harry, who had not heard Albus, watched the exchange, still gripping his wand.

“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered to Albus, but Albus didn’t risk answering.

Pansy looked surprised.

“About what?”

Draco walked towards her and placed a hand on her arm.

“Us,” he said. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw you last week.”

Pansy’s eyebrows raised and Daphne looked very pleased.

“Well, well,” Daphne said, teasing.

“I... suppose,” Pansy replied.

Daphne looked smug, as if she were responsible for something, and watched as Draco ushered Pansy down the hall, his hand on the small of her back.

Daphne smiled as she watched them leave, and then turned to Harry and Albus, looking them over with disdain.

“The two of you can wait  _right there_ ,” she said before turning and walking through another door.

Selwyn and Travers stood guard, while Albus stared at the ground. Harry was beside him, clearly confused, but Albus knew he couldn’t speak. He didn’t dare - for Scorpius’ sake.

_So close._

* * *

 

Draco and Pansy wound up in a small reading room, lit only by a single lantern on the center table.

Draco shut the door behind them and stood over Pansy, imposing and desperate.

“Pansy, I know he’s here,” Draco said. “Where is he?”

“I don’t... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pansy stammered.

“I know when you’re lying,” Draco said. “I know when you’re scared, and I know when you’re lying.”

“Really?” Pansy said. “I don’t know, Draco, it’s been a long time.”

“You’re right. It has. The Pansy I knew wouldn’t have helped kidnap a young man on his way to Hogsmeade.”

Pansy stared at him and after a moment, her face fell.

“She tortures people,” Pansy said finally, her voice quivering with fear. “You don’t know...”

“I’ve known people like her,” Draco assured her. “And you can tell me about it later. But  _please_ , tell me where my son is.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever said ‘please’ to me. For anything.”

Draco sighed and rubbed his face.

“I know I hurt you,” Draco said. “And I know I was wrong. But if you ever cared for me... if you ever loved me, or the child we lost -”

“The child we killed,” Pansy snapped.

“We were young and stupid and scared,” Draco said. “Neither of us understood -”

“Don’t use that against me,” Pansy warned. “I’ve regretted it every day.”

“I have too,” Draco said, holding his hands up, relenting. “Don’t think I haven’t. But if you ever cared about me or that child, please give me back the one that’s still here.”

Pansy swallowed hard and turned away from him, and Draco watched as she looked out the old, dusty window with her head bowed. He could almost see the weight on her shoulders.

Finally, she turned around and dug into the pocket of her robes.

“You’ll need this for his restraints,” Pansy said. “But I warn you, the Scorpius you lost isn’t the one that’s down there.”

“Pansy, thank you,” Draco choked, taking the small key from her hand and clutching it tight in his palm.

“He’s in the dungeon. Go down this hall -”

Travers pushed open the door behind Draco with one hand and cursed Pansy with his wand in the other. She fell backward onto the ground as Draco spun, wand in hand. Travers was an experienced dueler, he knew, but Draco was angry and closer to his son than he could have imagined he would be when he woke that morning.

He pushed Travers out of the room and into the hallway and heard a commotion begin down the hall where Harry and Albus were. He heard the sound of curses and jinxes flying and being deflected, and Albus’ voice echoing as he said spell after spell.

Draco yelled as he dueled Travers, looking for an opening as he ducked another curse, and when he found one, he sneered and said -

 _“Petrificus totalus.”_  

Travers fell backward onto the carpet, and Draco looked the way he came - where Harry and Albus were fighting Daphne and Selwyn - and ran in the opposite direction.

It was a long hall, and when he looked over his shoulder he could see the dust cloud he left in his wake.

The hall turned, and Draco kept running until he reached the end and found an arched wooden door that was unlike the others he’d seen, and found that it was sealed with magic.

“ _Alohamora.”_

Nothing happened.

Draco pounded on the door and yelled, “Scorpius! Are you in there?”

“Dad? Dad!”

Draco choked at the sound of his son’s voice but gathered himself. He knew he had little time.

“Step back from the door!”

Draco backed up and aimed his wand at the lock. It took five blasting curses, but the door gave way, falling off of its hinges. He coughed through the dust and dirt and pried the door open before climbing through.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
> 
> I promised you guys a Sunday chapter, and here it is.
> 
> More to come as soon as my little fingers can write it.
> 
> Also:
> 
>  


	24. Inadequate

Albus wasn’t as good at nonverbal magic as his father and Scorpius, but what he lacked in eloquence, he made up in elegance. Years of Quidditch had given him footwork worthy of compliments from even the great Harry Potter during their training sessions, and Albus found that it was a serious asset in an actual deadly duel.

Albus blocked another hex from Selwyn while Harry focused on Daphne, who was as aggressive as she sounded. Her blocks were sloppy but effective, and her curses were haphazard but strong. Albus watched her as best as he could, and could see that, while Harry was bent on taking her alive, she didn’t have similar intentions.

Albus dodged another curse from Selwyn, letting it fly right past his side and tried again to body-bind him to no avail, and as he parried again, he hoped against hope that Draco had fought off Travers and Parkinson. He hated to think that Draco had fought them both by himself, but there was no way either Albus or Harry could hold off Selwyn and Daphne alone to offer aid.

Albus tried to focus on the fight, but he had to know if Scorpius was safe - had he sent Draco on a fool’s errand? Had he been so desperate to believe Scorpius was there that he’d risked getting Draco - or worse, his own father - hurt or killed?

The distraction could have been deadly. In an opening Albus hadn’t intended to allow, Selwyn cast the killing curse, and in the elongated second it took to travel across the room, Albus yelled and dodged, rolling to the ground to avoid it. He felt the heat from the magical energy against his face as it passed him in the dirt and he rolled back onto his feet before his voice stopped echoing through the manor with Harry’s terrified bellow.

* * *

 

Draco staggered into the dark dungeon and lit his wand immediately. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when he heard Scorpius’ voice he swung around and saw his son crouched in the corner.

“Dad,” Scorpius said and Draco ran to him, cracking bones beneath his feet.

Scorpius collided with Draco, his hands restrained behind his back, and Draco pulled Scorpius to him roughly, wrapping his arms around his son tight and holding him as close as possible and still finding it inadequate.

“Scorpius,” Draco said, his voice thick with emotion. He felt Scorpius’ shoulders shake as he held him, letting his son sob for a moment into his shoulder.

“Dad,” Scorpius said. He pulled away just enough to look at his father’s face. “It’s so good to see you.”

Draco looked at Scorpius brushing the dirt from his son’s face, appalled at what he saw. Grime and dust were caked in his hair, and his clothes - cycled now to the ones he’d worn to the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match - were torn and dirty. Worse still, there were lines of blood from his ears, nose and eyes. His cheeks were sallow and sunken, and his lips were horribly chapped.

“I heard you laugh,” Scorpius said, shaky. “Down here. It echoed, and I knew it was you.”

“What did they do to you?” Draco asked. He turned Scorpius around and used the key Pansy had handed him to unlock the heavy metal irons around his wrists, and cringed at the inflamed burns in rings around Scorpius’ wrists as he let the contraption fall to the ground with a clatter.

“I’ll tell you later,” said Scorpius, stretching his shoulders forward. Even in the dim light he could see the outline of his spine and shoulder blades.

Draco drew him close, feeling the tears on his own face for the first time.

“Let’s apparate you out of here -”

A bellow from upstairs echoed down to the dungeons and Scorpius pulled away from Draco, his eyes wild and frightened.

“Albus?”

“I’ll come right back for them -”

But it was too late. Scorpius took off, running to the door and up the stairs. Draco fell in quickly and ran behind him.

“Scorpius! Stop!”

But he didn’t. Off-balance and exhausted as he was, Scorpius moved on adrenaline and fear, nearly tripping over Travers’ petrified body, his shoulders stiff from restraint and his legs tired from malnourishment.

He skidded and listened when he reached the atrium, and Scorpius chased the sound into the drawing room - the last place he wanted to see again - where Albus and Harry were dueling Daphne and Selwyn. As he reached the door, Daphne turned her wand on Albus as he blocked a curse from Selwyn, who ducked behind the great desk, which was now missing chunks from its corners.

Scorpius reached out his hand, but was too late to stop it. Harry cried out as Daphne sent Albus flying backward, and Scorpius watched as he twisted in the air and fell against the old, worn sofa with a pained groan.

Draco had his arm around Scorpius’ waist to stop him from crossing the threshold into her sight, but Scropius was close enough. He held out his hand, and a wall of flame erupted between where Harry crouched over Albus and where Daphne and Selwyn stood behind the desk.

Scorpius’ breath was shallow, but he knew he had just enough energy left with all the terror and anger coursing through his veins. Daphne, disoriented, looked around until her eyes landed on Scorpius, who peeled Draco’s slackened arm from around his midsection, stepping forward.

Draco, still clutching his wand, stared in awe.

“Scorp,” Albus called desperately, pained.

Scorpius fought his instinct to look at him, his eyes glued to Daphne lest she cause any more harm. He felt along the wall to reach for the hearth, which he held onto with his free hand for stability.

For two weeks Scorpius had wanted nothing more than to see Albus and Draco - to hear their voices and be held by them - and there they were, in the same room. For just a moment more, that had to be enough.

“Al, are you okay?”

He could hear the smile and relief in Albus’ voice.

“I am now.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and lowered the height of the fire. He wanted to see Daphne’s face.

“What are you doing, Scorpius?” she yelled over the crackling, her voice frantic and frightened.

“You taught me how to control it,” Scorpius said calmly. He heard Draco move behind him, and he hoped he was going to help Albus and Harry. “That was a mistake.”

Scorpius released the mantle and held out his other hand, summoning the water from the pond outside. It shattered the window was it came in, a single steady stream, to wrap around Daphne and Selwyn’s legs. His eyes narrowed in pain and exertion, Scorpius willed the water to freeze around them - encasing their lower halves in ice - and he watched with satisfaction as the stream crept up Daphne’s dress, immobilizing her.

“You ungrateful bastard!” Selwyn yelled.

Daphne tried again to hex him, but he focused on her wand and Selwyn’s. He whispered “ _expelliarmus”_  under his breath and watched as the two wands flew towards him and clattered at his feet.

Without their wands and immobilized in ice, Daphne and Selwyn were largely helpless, though they were loud. It was a temporary fix, but it was good enough, and Scorpius felt his knees buckle and his strength give way and the flames began to die.

* * *

 

Albus watched Scorpius in complete awe and indescribable relief, despite the spasms traveling up and down his left leg and side. Half his body cramped and he tried to sit still - to keep from writhing - as his father helped him sit upright.

When Draco ran to them, Albus tried to push himself off the ground, but his leg, through his hip and into his side, wouldn’t obey, and Draco had to take his other arm and pull him to his feet. Albus leaned heavily on Harry and watched as Scorpius froze Daphne in the water and earth from the family grounds she coveted.

“I have to take them in,” Harry said, his wand in hand, and released Albus.

It was only a few meters, but it felt like kilometers as Albus stumbled his way towards Scorpius as he finally gave out, and reached out to catch him as his knees gave way. He quickly found that he was in no shape to support anyone, and they fell to the floor.

“Hey, Al,” Scorpius breathed, his arms weakly wrapped around Albus’ neck. Albus held him tight, finding his hands in Scorpius’ hair and his face buried in his neck.

As Harry bound the criminals, and Draco called to him.

“I’ll get Travers. I have to make sure Pansy is... alive.”

Draco met Albus’ eyes as he walked out of the drawing room, and Albus knew that the worst was over.

He twitched and cringed in pain. Scorpius shuffled closer to him. He was disoriented, horrified and relieved all at the same time.

“I’m so sorry,” Albus said through tears. He didn’t cry often and didn’t like it when he did.

“For what?” Scorpius asked. He moved just a few inches - enough to look at Albus’ face, which was enough to bring a fresh wave of relief. Albus saw the tracks from his tears in the dirt and blood on his face, which was too much, and he sobbed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Scorpius said.

“I didn’t kiss you goodbye before I left,” Albus said. “I didn’t tell you I loved you.”

Scorpius stared at him, and gave him a sad smile. Albus gripped his ruined shirt, trying and failing to breathe through another spasm.

Scorpius wanted to find the right words to say - to tell him that he knew he was loved, and that a single missed kiss and goodbye, while inopportune - was not what he’d been thinking about these last weeks. He wanted to tell Albus the hope that he’d be there when Scorpius was finally released was all that had gotten him through the darkest nights in the dungeon, and he touched Albus’ face wiping away the tears and creating only muddy lines on his cheeks.

Everything he thought to say was inadequate. Instead, he pressed his lips to Albus’ and kissed him firmly but gently, pressing his hand into Albus’ chest the way he had the first time he’d kissed him. He felt Albus calm in a long exhale, clutching Scorpius’ shirt and holding him tighter.

When they broke apart, Scorpius pressed his forehead to Albus’, breathing slow and exhausted, noticing for the first time that parts of the room were still in flames. He didn’t care much.

“We need to get you home,” Albus said. “You’re hurt pretty badly.”

“So are you,” said Scorpius. He placed his hand on Albus’ calf where he could feel another tremor. “What did she do to you?”

Scorpius looked up as his father walked back into the drawing room, carrying an unconscious Pansy Parkinson with a still-petrified Travers bound in cords levitated before him.

“We need to get her to Saint Mungo’s,” Draco said. Harry stood from above Selwyn and Daphne, both bound and gagged.

“She needs to be taken to the Ministry.”

“They’ll put her in Azkaban until the trial,” Draco argued.

“She _kidnapped_ your _son_ ,” Harry replied tersely, levitating Travers’ immobile body to where Daphne and Selwyn lay.

“And you can put security on her there, correct?”

Harry sighed. “Yes. I can.”

“Then that’s where I’m taking her, Scorpius, and Albus.”

“I want to go home,” Scorpius protested, looking up at his father from the floor. Draco lay Pansy on the ruined couch and turned to Scorpius, pulling him to his feet again and holding him upright as Harry, satisfied with the restraints on the criminals, walked over to Albus, ‘accidentally’ kicking Daphne as he stepped over her gagged form.

“Can you stand?” he asked, holding his hand down for Albus. His lip was bleeding and his coat was torn at the shoulder. Albus reached up and grabbed his hand, but couldn’t find his balance. It took both Harry and Draco, leaving Scorpius to lean against the wall, to get him back on his feet.

Albus stumbled and grasped the hearth, glaring over his shoulder at Daphne, Selwyn, and Travers.

“Can’t we just burn the house down with them in it?”

“Unfortunately, no,” said Harry. He reached out, placing a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder, smiling warmly. “I’m so relieved you’re alive. After we didn’t find you in a couple days, I wasn’t sure...”

“I almost wasn’t,” said Scorpius. He looked to Draco. “Please, just take me home.”

“I second that,” said Albus with a groan, his leg buckling. Some of the remaining flames started licking up the opposite wall, and the fire that had mostly died was beginning anew.

“Should we put out the fire?” Harry asked.

“No,” replied Scorpius.

Daphne protested loudly through her gag.

“I second that,” Albus repeated. Scorpius wrapped his arms around himself, shivering violently.

“Take the boys home,” Harry said to Draco.

“On the condition that we go straight to St. Mungo’s in the morning,” Draco said, looking at both of them. Scorpius nodded in reluctant agreement through his now-chattering teeth.

“I’ll be there shortly,” Harry assured Albus, then looked to Draco. “And I’ll take Pansy to the hospital.”

Draco nodded and held his arm out for Scorpius and Albus, who took it gratefully and they apparated away from the house, letting it burn.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Note: Hi! I just want you to know that I really appreciate all of the kind words and kudos. I've really been enjoying writing this fic over the last couple of weeks.
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> I'm not that active on Tumblr, but I'm sure some of you are and I'd love to follow you - I need more fun stuff on my dash, so say hi!
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> [Tumblr](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	25. Better

Draco barely kept Scorpius and Albus upright when they appeared before the fireplace. With his wand, he summoned the sofa from across the room, letting it slide to a halt beside them, just before the roaring fire. He deposited Scorpius onto the cusions, and when he fell back, taking up most of the space, Albus elected to sit on the floor with his back against the front rail. Draco settled onto the arm of the couch and the three men sat still in a disoriented silence for several minutes, interrupted only by Albus’ twitching and grimacing.

“I think this has been the longest day of my life,” Albus said finally, turning to look at Scorpius, who had sunk into the couch. Scorpius turned from looking at the ceiling and smiled sadly at Albus.

“Is it tomorrow yet?” Albus asked, massaging his leg. “It feels like it should be tomorrow.”

Draco checked his watch.

“It’s not even ten o’clock.”

Albus rested his head on the cushion near Scorpius’ chest, taking comfort in the sound of his breathing.

“Are you okay, Al?” Scorpius asked, moving a weary arm to rest across Albus’ shoulders below his chin.

“I’m okay,” Albus assured him.

  
Scorpius looked up to his father who sat above him. Draco hadn’t taken his eyes form his son since they landed in the Manor, and reached down to brush his dirty hair back from his muddy face.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

“I’m not hurt,” Draco told him. “And I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Albus took Scorpius’ hand from his shoulder and held it tight.

“You gave us quite a scare,” Albus said, and Scorpius looked between them.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and Draco smiled down at him.

“Anything for you,” said Draco. He gave Scorpius’ shoulder a squeeze before standing. “We need to get you cleaned up and you need to eat. I’ll be right back.”

Scorpius nodded and looked up at the portrait of his mother hanging over the fire place. Astoria looked down at her son with painted tears streaming down her face. Scorpius had to look away.

“How long was I gone?” he asked Albus.

“Fifteen days,” Albus said. “The longest fifteen days. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

Scorpius bit his lip and looked back to the ceiling. If Albus kept looking at him like that, he was going to cry again, and he was too exhausted to cry.

Albus pressed their clasped hands to his forehead, closing his eyes.

From the doorway, Albus could hear Draco instructing the house elves to be calm - that Scorpius had been through an ordeal, and that he needed a bit of time before he was back to his old self. Scorpius smiled tiredly when he heard Pike’s shrill voice expressing concern.

After a moment of whispered deliberation from the doorway, Pike silently carried in a bowl of water and a cloth, appearing at Scorpius’ side so quietly that he jumped.

“Hello, Pike,” he said warmly.

Albus had never known House Elves to be expressive, but the look of sadness on Pike’s face was unmistakable.

“I’ll take care of it,” Albus assured her and she nodded, but didn’t move. She only wrung her hands, unable to look at Scorpius for more than a second.

“I’m okay, Pike,” Scorpius assured her, releasing Albus and grasping Pike’s busy hands gently to still them. “I’ll be just fine.”

This, it seemed, was enough to assure her, and she gave Scorpius a light pat on the back of his hand before slipping away and leaving the room silently.

“They were worried about you,” Albus said, taking the cloth and submerging it in the warm water. “Everyone was worried about you.”

His movements were slow – it took a lot of energy to keep from looking like he was in pain – and he carefully took Scorpius’ hands and cleaned the dirt from them, avoiding the burned rings around his wrists.

“Al, you don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do,” Albus assured him. He reached up for Scorpius’ face and cringed.

“Why is there blood all over your face?” he asked, beginning to clean it off. Scorpius closed his eyes.

“These handcuffs,” Scorpius said. “They were supposed to stop me from doing magic at all, but I kept trying, and…”

Albus cleared the fresh blood from under Scorpius’ nose with care.

“You did it trying to let me know you were there.”

Scorpius gave a small nod, curling up more and looking at Albus.

“I must look terrifying.”

Albus smiled and shook his head. “No. You’re the best thing I’ve seen in fifteen days.”

Scorpius smiled faintly and closed his eyes, and Albus wished desperately that they could sleep.

Draco returned with a bowl of soup and set it down on a nearby table.

“You need to eat,” Draco said, and Scorpius looked at him as if the idea was simply exhausting.

“Do I?” he asked tiredly. “Can’t I just sleep?”

“In a bit,” Albus said, releasing his hand. He grimaced through another spasm and fought to keep his face from showing too much pain.

Scorpius nodded and allowed Draco to help him into a semi-seated position as Harry strode into the room.

“Daphne, Selwyn and Travers are all in Ministry custody,” he said. “Pansy has been taken to Saint Mungo’s, and there are two Aurors watching her room. I’ve also got a security team patrolling the grounds outside and watching the entrances until we can confirm there isn’t anyone else involved.”

“There isn’t,” Scorpius said, giving himself a spoonful of soup and cringing. “It’s hot.”

“It’s because you’re so cold. You’re still shivering,” said Draco. Harry grabbed a blanket from an armchair and wrapped it around Scorpius’ shoulders, giving him a gentle hug while he did so.

“You really had us worried,” Harry told him.

Scorpius gave him a sheepish look and looked back down at his soup.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Draco said, sitting down on the edge of the couch between Scorpius and Albus, which made Albus pout a little bit until Harry crouched next to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Albus looked over his shoulder and saw that Draco had Scorpius occupied.

Albus shook his head, giving his father a pointed look.

“Come on,” Harry said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Don’t go,” pled Scorpius.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Albus said, letting Harry pull him to his feet and putting all his weight on his good leg. “I’m just going to go rinse off. That’s all.”

Scorpius nodded in reluctant agreement and turned back to Draco as Harry helped Albus from the room.

Draco watched as Scorpius took slow, careful sips of his soup, rubbing his son’s back gently and carefully. He wanted to say something - anything to make him smile or laugh, or to assure him that everything was going to get better - but found himself at a rare loss.

* * *

 

Albus directed Harry to the nearest downstairs bathroom that had a shower in it, and when they arrived, he all but collapsed onto the counter.

“Leg isn’t easing up?” Harry asked. Albus shook his head.

“No. It’s this constant muscle spasm from my side all the way down to my ankle,” Albus said. He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was covered in dirt and soot, and his hair was lighter from all the dust that had settled in it. He peeled off his outer layers and threw them on the floor.

“Scorpius is going to be angry that you ruined his sweater,” Harry teased.

Albus smiled. “At least he’s alive to be mad.”

“I’m going to go scrounge up some ingredients for a restoration potion. It should at least ease the pain,” Harry said. “Rinse off. I’ll be back.”

Albus nodded and Harry left him. He pulled himself into the shower painfully, and when he turned it on, he watched as all the grime washed down the drain. He stayed in the shower until the water ran clean, and then a bit longer until he had gathered himself.

* * *

 

Scorpius was barely conscious by the time Draco pulled him out of the shower and helped him negotiate getting into a pair of clean pajamas. Scorpius had tried to avoid looking in the mirror and had failed miserably, staring horrified at his own reflection.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Draco asked, but Scorpius shook his head.

“I’m cold,” Scorpius said, leaning on Draco as they walked. “Can I go back to the fireplace?”

“Of course.”

Draco took him back to the sitting room where Albus and Harry were waiting. Scorpius collapsed into the couch next to Albus, who was quick to wrap an arm around his shoulders and take another drink of the potion in his hand.

“Do you feel any better?” Albus asked.

“I don’t feel like I’m dying,” Scorpius replied. “So that’s an improvement.”

Albus looked at his father for help and Harry stopped pacing. He and Draco looked down at their sons, concerned.

“Can you talk about what happened?” Harry asked.

Scorpius leaned away from Albus and into the arm of the couch, turning his face away from them and rubbing his forehead.

“I have to ask,” said Harry, sympathetic and crouching in front of Scorpius. “I have to report what happened otherwise the Ministry can’t hold Daphne and her accomplices.”

“Pansy doesn’t deserve Azkaban,” Scorpius said quietly. “The rest of them do.”

“Can you tell me why?”

Scorpius looked up at his mother’s painting, wondering if she’d feel betrayed that he was putting her sister in the worst prison imaginable.

“Aunt Daph -” Scorpius stopped himself and took a deep breath, covering his eyes with his hand. It was easier of he couldn’t see Albus and his father looking at him. “Daphne. She’s not my family. I guess she heard about the outburst in Dueling Club. Got it in her head that I was the powerful pure-blood wizard that was going to lead her people back to greatness and subjugate the mudbloods and half-bloods. She decided she was going to ‘fix’ me, because my powers were proof that the Greengrass family curse was broken.”

He glanced up at his mother’s painting again and saw her staring down at him with compassion he didn’t feel he deserved.

“And so she and Selwyn and Travers tortured me. I wouldn’t get food until I did what she asked - make things levitate for a certain amount of time, light all the lanterns in the house at once without seeing them. Things like that. It got more and more difficult, and when I didn’t comply, or if I didn’t do well enough, one of them would use the Cruciatus curse, and I’d be thrown back down in the dungeon.”

Albus looked down at his hands, helpless.

“Pansy was there when I was abducted, but that was it,” Scorpius said. “She snuck me food behind Daphne’s back and didn’t raise her wand or hand to me a single time.”

“I saw what you did,” Harry said. “We all did. Why didn’t you break yourself out?”

“They had these handcuffs that stopped me from using any magic at all,” Scorpius said, holding out his blistered and bruised wrists. “And when they took them off so I could...  _practice_ , they made sure I knew one of them was out there, watching the three of you as you looked for me. She said she’d kill every person I cared if I stopped cooperating, starting with dad and Albus.”

Albus didn’t look up when he spoke.

“How did you let me know you were there?” he asked.

“How did you know?” Harry asked Albus. “You never said.”

“I shocked him,” Scorpius explained. “I heard dad’s laugh and it echoed, and I just closed my eyes and tried to sense the people in the house. Kind of like using _homenum revelio_ without a wand, I guess. And I found Albus. And I shocked him through the soles of his shoes. It was very... difficult, trying to work through the curse.”

Scorpius looked up at his father, who had been notably quiet, and saw that he was leaning against the hearth with his back turned.

“And that’s... about it, I guess,” Scorpius concluded. Harry took Scorpius’ hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze before standing.

“Thank you,” he said. “I know that was difficult, but we’ll get some kind of justice.”

“Justice isn’t going to help me sleep at night,” Scorpius said.

“Or me,” said Draco. He turned around, and folded his arms, his eyes red.

Albus leaned forward, his face in his hands.

Scorpius picked the blanket up from the floor and wrapped it around himself to make it clear that he was done talking.

“I’m going to go file the report,” Harry told Draco as they walked toward the door. “We’ll have to get an in-person statement in a few days, but it can wait.”

Harry looked back at Albus and Scorpius. Albus had slid to the floor, giving Scorpius room to stretch out, arranging himself in the least painful position possible. He and Draco watched as Albus tucked the blanket around Scorpius a little tighter and made sure his feet were covered.

Harry had always struggled to see his children as anything other than children. When he looked at Lily, he saw her as a child playing with wildflowers, her hair still in pigtails, and when he looked at Albus and James, he pictured them barely older than toddlers, learning to ride their first brooms or trying to read on the living room floor.

But when he looked at Albus now, comforting the person he loved as he fell asleep after a horrific ordeal, he saw something else. His son was strong and unrelenting. Albus had been quick to react in a fight and hadn’t been anything less than brave, and Harry knew he would never see Albus as anything less than a good man again.

“Leave them here tonight,” Draco said quietly, seeing Scorpius’ eyes start to close.

“I don’t think Al would let me do otherwise,” Harry said. “I’ll be back in the morning to check in.”

Draco nodded, and Harry turned to leave. Draco caught his arm before he could.

“Thank you, Harry,” Draco said. “If you weren’t Head of Magical Law Enforcement... I’m not sure we would have found him if it had been anyone else.”

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say. Draco Malfoy wasn’t usually prone to heartfelt exchanges with him.

“Any time, Draco,” he said finally, and Draco released his arm looking back to Scorpius as Harry walked away.

* * *

 

Albus had sent Draco on to sleep in the next room, since he knew he wouldn’t be moving from his place beside Scorpius anyway.

“At least one of us should get some rest,” Albus said. “My leg is still killing me anyway.”

And so he sat beside Scorpius, tossing wood into the fire whenever it got low and making sure the blanket stayed tucked just beneath his chin. When he would start to toss and turn, Albus would reach out and stroke the side of his face and whisper assurances until he calmed and his face relaxed again.

Eventually, though, Albus dozed off, his head resting awkwardly by Scorpius’ arm. In the middle of the night, Scorpius started talking in his sleep, saying “no,” and “not again,” over and over again until Albus woke up. His face was contorted and Albus pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the couch.

“Scorpius?”

Albus shook his shoulders gently, but Scorpius didn’t wake. He cried out, and Albus shook him harder, saying his name until Scorpius’ eyes opened, wide and frightened.

Albus leaned over him and stroked the side of his face with his thumb.

“Hey,” he said gently. “It’s okay. You’re home now.”

Scorpius stared up at him, slowly coming to his senses.

“Al?” he whimpered. Albus didn’t like that at all.

“I’m right here,” Albus assured him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Scorpius sat up against the arm of the sofa and looked at the fire, his breathing slowing as Albus tucked the blanket around him again. The warmer glow of the fire made his face seem less pale and empty, which was a small comfort to Albus.

“What can I do?” Albus asked.

Scorpius shook his head and rubbed his face.

“I can’t get their faces out of my head,” he said. “I can’t stop the fear I felt when one of them would come at me to use the Cruciatus curse.”

Albus didn’t know what to do. He gently pulled Scorpius’ hands from his face to meet his eyes.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” Albus said. “Or what you’ve been through. But I can tell you that I’m not letting you out of my sight. I swear, I’ll maim anyone who tries to do you harm.”

Scorpius’ expression softened and he reached out and ran his hands over Albus’ side.

“You got hurt,” he said.

“It’s nothing,” Albus said quickly. “It’s a small price to pay for having you home.”

“I talked to dad... while you were taking a shower. I don’t think he knew what to say, so he told me about you,” Scorpius said, toying with the hem of Albus’ shirt absently. “He said you threatened a Ministry worker.”

“The Chief of Investigations, actually,” Albus admitted, trying to smile. “She really didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. It was the day you went missing.”

“He also said that you pulled together most of the pieces. That you watched Daphne’s house for days, and that you went with them every place they investigated. And he said it was you who finally figured out where I was,” Scorpius said.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Albus said. “I kind of just... kept kicking rocks until something turned up.”

“He said you barely slept,” Scorpius continued. Albus wished Draco hadn’t told him these things.

“You were missing,” Albus said. “Of course I didn’t sleep. I knew you were out there and I knew you were hurt.”

Scorpius swallowed hard and drew indefinite shapes on Albus’ stomach with his fingers.

“He said he’s never seen that kind of devotion from one person to another.”

Albus couldn’t meet Scorpius’ eyes. After such a long and grueling day, it seemed like too much. He’d already cried enough.

But Scorpius tapped the bottom of his chin until he looked up.

“He said I’m damn lucky to have you,” Scorpius said, brushing Albus’ hair out of his face. “He said I should hold onto you.”

“You’d be hard pressed to get rid of me now,” Albus said. “Though I don’t think I’ve been a very good boyfriend. I was distracted. I wasn’t paying attention to what you were going through.”

He cringed a bit as his leg ached again and took a deep breath to wait until it subsided, but Scorpius leaned forward and placed his hand on his leg. His hand was warm like a hot water bottle and Albus was relieved when he started massaging the tendon that kept twitching just above his knee.

“So, you’re in control now?” Albus asked. He rubbed Scorpius’ back lightly while he dug his palm into the sore muscle.

“Yes,” Scorpius said. “I think Professor McGonagall’s lessons helped save me. I was able to visualize what I was doing and it helped.”

Albus watched the faint glow coming from Scorpius’ hand in awe, and after a moment, he placed his own hand over it.

“That’s pretty impressive,” he said.

Scorpius shrugged. “Something useful had to come out of this.”

Albus saw at the raw skin circling Scorpius’ wrists and frowned.

“Does it hurt? Your wrists?”

“A bit,” Scorpius said. “Dad put some salve on them earlier to help it heal.”

“We’ll go to Saint Mungo’s tomorrow,” Albus assured him. “They’ll help you feel better. At least physically.”

“And they’ll take a look at that leg,” Scorpius replied.

Albus shrugged. “It’s not my top priority.”

“What was the surprise?” Scorpius asked abruptly.

“What?”

“When I was on my way to Hogsmeade that day, you had said you had a surprise for me.”

Albus had completely forgotten about the party - about the Magical Archives and the Magizoology Society. He’d forgotten all about what he was going to ask.

“Your dad and I planned a little party for you at the Three Broomsticks,” Albus confessed. “The letter was sent to him by mistake, but you were accepted for the position at the Magical Archives of Britain.”

“I’d forgotten all about that,” Scorpius said. “This has felt a lot longer than two weeks.”

“I know. But I was also going to tell you that I’d been given a provisional acceptance for an internship at the Magizoology Society in London. And I was going... um...” Albus began to stammer. “I was going to ask you if maybe you wanted to move in together... and start thinking about things... like that.”

For the first time since the morning of the Quidditch match, Albus got a genuine smile from Scorpius.

“You just helped fight off an evil, torturous bitch who would have killed you if she’d had the chance,” Scorpius said, “and you’re stuttering asking me if I want to get a flat with you?”

“Yeah,” Albus replied, laughing at himself quietly. “I guess I am.”

“Are you  _blushing_?”

Albus rolled his eyes and Scorpius leaned into him, relaxing.

“It’s a silly question,” Scorpius said. “You know I’d love that.”

“It does seem silly. And that was before. But now I just...” Albus struggled to find the words. “I just want the chance to love you better. I was... really terrified that I’d lost you, and that I’d never get the chance to tell you that.”

Scorpius kissed Albus’ cheek softly and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Albus’.

“And here I was thinking I was the bad boyfriend for being temperamental and withdrawn,” Scorpius said. “You’re not a bad boyfriend. If you were, I wouldn’t have thought about you every night. I knew you were out there looking for me. It got me through.”

Albus bit his lip. It had been months since he’d kissed Scorpius - really kissed him, like he meant it. He thought back to July in the damp grass on his birthday. It seemed like an eon ago.

Scorpius seemed to know what he was thinking, and before Albus could think of anything to say, Scorpius kissed him, sliding his hands around his waist. Albus kissed him back, gently at first and then biting his lower lip, ignoring the dull ache that was coming back around his knee and hip. He pulled Scorpius closer, accepting his weight gratefully - worshipfully - and kissed him until Scorpius pulled away with a weary smile.

“When I’m better,” Scorpius said, “we are spending an entire weekend in the Room of Requirement.”

Albus laughed and leaned back on the couch, stretching out and arranging arms and legs until Scorpius could rest his head on his chest. He stretched his sore leg out across the arm, well aware of how ridiculous they looked packed onto the too-small couch, but Albus couldn’t imagine anywhere in the world he would have rather been than in front of a roaring fire in the small hours of New Year’s Eve with Scorpius asleep on his chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	26. Velcro

Harry found Ginny in the kitchen doing some late night cleaning. When she turned and saw his filthy, torn clothes and his bloody lip, she raised her eyebrows and turned off the water.

“What happened?”

“We found him,” Harry said with a grin. His lip started bleeding again.

“You did?” Ginny’s eyes widened and she approached him, excited.

“Yeah. I mean... he’s going to need help, but he’s alive and whole.”

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry and hugged him tight.

“That’s such a relief,” she said. He held onto her. “Is Al okay?”

Harry released her, a bit more serious.

“There was a fight. He took a bad hit,” he said. “I’m not sure how bad. We’re taking them to Saint Mungo’s in the morning, but he’s having trouble walking”

“Is he at the manor? Can I go see him?”

Harry shook his head. “No. Scorpius is exhausted and they’re probably both asleep by now. I would have brought him home, but I don’t think he’ll be letting Malfoy out of his sight for a while.”

Ginny nodded, understanding, and Harry told her about Daphne and her compatriots, and Pansy Parkinson’s involvement while she brewed him a cup of chamomile tea.

“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt him,” Ginny said finally, sitting across from Harry at their kitchen table.

“I can’t either, but the truth is that he’s frighteningly powerful,” Harry said. “If he wanted to, he could be trouble.”

“It’s Scorpius,” Ginny said. “He’s more likely to get into trouble for keeping a library book out too long.”

“I agree,” said Harry, “but all the same, we should just be conscious of it.”

Ginny nodded. “I bet Al is so relieved.”

“I’ve never seen him the way he was tonight,” Harry said. “He apparently took those defense lessons to heart or he would have gotten himself killed. I wasn’t expecting a duel like that at all, otherwise he wouldn’t have been there, but Gin, you would have been proud of him. The curse he took wasn’t really his fault, and he did everything right.”

Harry looked across the room at a photo of Albus and James just before Albus started at Hogwarts. Seven years had seemed like a lifetime.

“When I left, Scorpius was laying on this couch by the fire, and Al refused to leave his side so he just sat on the floor,” Harry said. “Sound familiar?”

Ginny smiled with a wave of sad nostalgia.

“After the Battle of Hogwarts,” she said. “Mum took you back to The Burrow and you and Ron ate everything in the house and then you slept for almost an entire day.”

“And you stayed right there until I woke up,” Harry said. He took her hand across the table and held it tight. “He might look like me, but there’s a lot of you in him.”

“That’s probably what’s kept him alive,” Ginny teased, and Harry laughed, finishing his tea.

* * *

 

Draco was standing in the doorway to the study when Harry and Ginny arrived the next morning. He was clutching a cup of tea, watching Scorpius and Albus sleep well past dawn.

Ginny appeared at his shoulder and looked in as Albus shifted in his sleep and wrapped his arms tighter around Scorpius, and she smiled.

“I’m so glad he’s safe,” she whispered, and Draco smiled at her.

“I am too,” said Draco. He looked over her to Harry who looked a little worse for wear, but was overall back to normal, save for a bit of swelling along his lower lip.

“Should we wake them?” Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head.

“Let them sleep,” he said. “I know a thing or two about sleeping off something like this.”

“Still,” Draco began. “I think it’s time we faced a great and terrible truth.”

“What’s that?” Harry said dubiously.

“That there is a very real chance we’re going to be in-laws in a few years’ time,” Draco said, sipping his coffee.

“Don’t tell Hermione or Rose,” Ginny said. “They’ll just place bets.”

“There’s another great and terrible truth, Draco,” Harry said.

“What?”

“Ainsley Greengrass’ sole guardian was just put in prison,” Harry said. “She’s sixteen years old and doesn’t have any family other than her mother.”

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m the next family member in line?”

“That isn’t ancient and in St. Oswald’s,” Harry said. “She’s in protective custody at the Ministry, but -”

“Bring her here, Harry,” Draco said. “Of course you should bring her here. She must be terribly upset. She can’t spend New Year’s alone, though this is hardly a holiday.”

“I’ll send the owl,” Harry said, but stood and watched his son sleep peacefully for a few moments longer.

* * *

 

When Albus woke a while later, he found Scorpius draped over him, but obviously awake. He was drawing circles on Albus’ arm with his index finger.

“You’re still here,” Albus said. Scorpius looked up at him.

“Indeed,” Scorpius said. “I was relieved to wake up here too.”

“I bet.”

Scorpius laid his head back down on Albus’ chest and stayed still until his stomach started grumbling.

“I need to eat,” Scorpius announced as he carefully extracted himself from Albus and the couch. When he stood, he was a bit shaky, but steady.

“You need to eat everything in the house,” Albus said.

“Yeah, I know. I look pretty rough,” Scorpius said.

Albus struggled to his feet with a groan. “You’re fine. And you’ll feel better in a few days.”

“I hope the same can be said of you,” said Scorpius, concerned. “Shouldn’t that have gone away by now?”

“I don’t know,” Albus said. “We’ll get it checked out later. First - breakfast.”

Scorpius held out his arm to him and wrapped it around his waist, and Albus tried as hard as he could to keep from putting his weight on Scorpius.

“I’m not much help right now,” Scorpius said, “but I’m here.”

Albus smiled and together they made the slow trek to the dining room, where Albus was relieved to find his parents.

“Scorpius!”

Ginny raced across the room and embraced Scorpius, who only barely had time to release Albus, who hopped himself along the table to it down by Harry.

“It’s so good to see you,” Ginny said. She gave Scorpius a kiss on the cheek and he didn’t know what to do. It had been years since someone’s mum had hugged him like this - like his own mother used to when he got off the train from Hogwarts.

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Potter,” Scorpius said finally.

“Dear, you look like hell,” she said. Scorpius gave an empty laugh, embarrassed.

“I just need some scrambled eggs and more sleep,” he said. Ginny escorted him to the seat next to his father, who immediately began scraping food onto Scorpius’ plate.

“I’m glad you’re on your feet,” said Draco. He withdrew Scorpius’ spare glasses from his pocket and Scorpius accepted them gratefully. “You looked like you got some sleep.”

Scorpius glanced at Albus.

“I did. Finally,” Scorpius said. He took a bite of his scrambled eggs and found immediately that his appetite had returned overnight, and the smell of Pike’s four-cheese scrambled eggs with peppers and onions made it even more profound. He ate the entire plate as quickly as he could, and then reached across the table for some toast.

Draco stared at him.

“What?” Scorpius said through a mouthful of bread.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m really hungry,” he said, swallowing and immediately eating the rest of the slice, reaching for the orange juice. “It’s either I eat or I go right back to sleep.”

“Well, eat slowly then. It’s going to be a long day,” Draco warned.

“Yeah, I know. Straight to Saint Mungo’s,” Scorpius said. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Draco said firmly.

“And so does Al,” Ginny agreed. Albus rolled his eyes and drank his coffee.

“And when we get back, Ainsley will be here,” Draco told him.

Scorpius stopped eating and looked at him.

“Ainsley? I’m not ready to deal with other people. This,” Scorpius said, gesturing to the people at the table, “is my limit.”

“She has nowhere else to go,” said Harry. “She’s in a Ministry safe house because she has no other family to take her in.”

Albus looked from Scorpius to his father. He knew Harry made it a point to ensure each child displaced by crime was put in a safe place as quickly as possible, and Ainsley was no different.

“If it makes any difference,” Albus said, “I’ll stay with you. You won’t have to face her alone.”

“It’s hard enough looking at mum’s portrait right now,” Scorpius admitted. “Ainsley looks just like Daphne.”

Draco sighed. “But she’s not her mother. We are literally her only family, Scorpius. And she’s been beside herself ever since you were taken. She wrote me every day asking for an update.”

“Which is really ironic when you think about it,” Scorpius said, “since it was Christmas break and she was at home with her mother - or at least she was with her mother when her mum wasn’t torturing and starving me.”

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but had nothing to say.

“But you’re right,” Scorpius concluded after a moment. “We are her family. And I’m going to have to face her eventually. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid before we go back to Hogwarts next week.”

“Next week?” Draco said. “Oh, no. You’re not going back until you’ve got a clean bill of health. You need to rest and recover.”

“I am going back to Hogwarts with Albus,” Scorpius declared.

“I can stay home for an extra week,” Albus said. “I already have our assignment lists anyway.”

“No, you won’t,” said Ginny. “You’ve already missed enough school.”

“You skipped the end of the term, didn’t you?” Scorpius asked Albus.

“Are you daft? Of course I did,” Albus said. “I’ve got lists from Flint and Farley.”

“Well, then it’s settled,” Scorpius said. “We have to go back next week if Albus missed the last week of classes.”

“Al can go back without you,” Harry said.

Albus shook his head. “Al _can_ go back without him, but Al _won’t_.”

“You need to be in the care of a healer,” Draco said. “And the healers at Saint Mungo’s -”

“Can surely send instructions to Madam Pomfrey,” Scorpius interrupted.

Silence fell over the table and Scorpius tried to keep his breakfast down. He’d eaten entirely too quickly.

“If the healers say it’s okay,” Draco began, “and if you’ve taken care of yourself, then you can go back to Hogwarts next week.”

Scorpius sighed and reluctantly agreed with his father. They shook on it.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Scorpius said, standing. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

* * *

 

When Scorpius didn’t return, Albus went looking for him, limping down the hall using the walls for support. He found him seated against the wall near one of the manor’s many bathrooms, his eyes closed.

“Scorp?”

“I just...” Scorpius trailed off, taking another deep breath. “I wasn’t paying attention. It was dark down here, and...”

“You don’t need to explain,” Albus said, bracing himself against the wall and holding his hand out. He helped pull Scorpius to his feet and for a moment, they leaned on each other.

“No dark places for a while,” Albus said.

“I’d rather not go anywhere alone,” Scorpius said quietly. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” Albus said. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll be like velcro.”

“What’s velcro?”

Albus sighed. “I’ll point it out the next time we see a film. The point is, I’ll stay with you. Where you go, I’ll go.”

“I don’t mean to be a pain,” Scorpius said. “It’s just... I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” Albus said. “I promise. If you need to sleep with the lights on, that’s fine. If you need some space, that’s fine too. Just tell me.”

Scorpius nodded and tapped Albus’ bad foot with his bare toes. “Let’s get that leg looked at.”

* * *

 

When they apparated to Saint Mungo’s, the press was waiting. Daily Prophet reporters stood at the front of the pack with cameras and Quick-Quotes Quills. Scorpius closed his eyes against the flashes as Draco walked him across the lobby, his face stoic and reserved. Scorpius kept his head down, looking back only to make sure Albus was behind him, helped along by Harry.

It took only a few minutes to get checked in, but it was far too long for Scorpius. After a long fifteen days in near-solitude, the throng of people surrounding them was too much, and he turned his face against his father’s shoulder. Harry attempted to corral the reporters and push them back, demanding a perimeter, but as a public space, there wasn’t much he could do.

Albus leaned on the counter beside Scorpius and looked to the receptionist.

“Can’t you get us out of here?”

“This was a mistake,” admitted Draco. “I should have had someone come to the manor.”

“Our healers don’t do house calls,” said the receptionist coldly, as if she’d said those words a hundred times that day. She handed them four badges and directed the group to the fourth floor, offering a clearly-pained Albus a wheelchair, which he promptly refused.

They got into the elevator, helped along by Harry, who shoved at least one reporter back through the doors when they tried to follow.

“They can’t follow us past the lobby,” Harry assured Scorpius. “The report from last night is public record. They must have anticipated we’d show up, but they’re gone now.”

Scorpius nodded, but didn’t look up. Albus took his hand and found that it was shaking.

When they arrived on the fourth floor, the healers immediately took Albus in one direction and Scorpius in another. When Scorpius gave him a pained look, Albus protested, but got nowhere.

“You need entirely different departments,” the healer explained. Albus squeezed Scorpius’ hand.

“I’ll just be a few halls away,” he assured him. Scorpius nodded reluctantly and released him, following his father.

* * *

 

Draco demanded a complete examination, which took a toll on Scorpius’ energy. He drank a powerful restoration potion and was given several more to take over the next week in addition to salves for his burns, cuts and bruises. Draco wrote down all of the instructions from the healer, who was sympathetic, kind, and very pretty, making sure no details were overlooked.

“I have to confess,” the healer said, “I was following the story in the news over the past weeks. I was relieved to hear that you were found this morning.”

“It was in this morning’s paper?” Scorpius asked. “Lovely.”

“There weren’t any details,” she said. “But I was here when Mr. Potter brought in Miss Parkinson.”

“How is she?” Draco asked.

“She’s awake,” the healer said, pulling a chocolate bar from the drawer and handing it to Scorpius. “But it’s clear she’s been through an ordeal. She’s cooperating with the authorities.”

“I want to see her,” Scorpius said. Draco looked at him, shocked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Scorpius said.

“If she’ll accept visitors, she’s in the ward at the end of the hall.”

“Are we done here?” Scorpius asked, pulling his jumper back on over his head.

The healer nodded. “Drink one of these every day, and apply the salve at night. Drink plenty of water and eat your chocolate, and you should be feeling better in a few days,” she said. “At least physically.”

Scorpius nodded and slid off the table just as Albus’ voice echoed down the hall.

“I am _not_ using that thing.”

“Al, be reasonable,” came Harry’s voice. “It might be temporary.”

“It might be temporary? Do you hear yourself?”

Scorpius stepped outside and saw Albus settling against the wall, Harry in front of him, holding a cane.

“I’m seventeen years old,” Albus said. “I refuse to walk with a cane.”

“What happened?” Scorpius asked, approaching.

“Well, the healer,” Albus gestured wildly down the hall, “says that this kind of curse isn’t always something you recover from. Especially when it settles in your joints.”

“What are you saying?”

Harry looked at Scorpius. “That it might be permanent.”

“No,” said Scorpius. He looked back at the healer standing next to his father. “That’s not possible, is it?”

“Unfortunately, it is,” she said gently. “When someone casts a curse with intent to cause serious harm - a real hatred - it can cause permanent damage.”

“Like the Unforgivable Curses?” Scorpius asked.

Harry sighed. “You have to mean it, and unfortunately, she really wanted us dead or disabled.”

“It’s difficult to say,” the healer continued. “You could recover over the next few months.”

“Months?” Albus looked horrified. “I have a Qudditch match in two weeks.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” said the healer. “And take your potions.”

Albus looked at the ceiling and Scorpius shuffled his feet, guilty.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Albus.

“I have another patient,” said the healer, turning to Draco. “If you need any more help, please just send me an owl, regardless of what the receptionist told you.”

She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and scribbled something on it, handing it to Draco.

“You won’t have to come in and deal with the mob.”

“Thank you,” Draco said. She began to walk away. “I didn’t get your name.”

She smiled over her shoulder and called back to him.

“I’m Dania.”

Draco watched her go a little too intently, and Harry smirked behind his back, but said nothing.

“You’ll get better,” Scorpius said to Albus. “You have to.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” Albus looked at his watch. “This has eaten most of the day and you look exhausted. Let’s go back to the manor.”

“I need to see Pansy Parkinson,” Scorpius said.

Harry looked between him and Albus. “You’ve both lost your minds.”

“Dad, I need to talk to her,” Scorpius insisted.

“Are you sure you want to? After what she did...”

“I don’t think she wanted to hurt me,” Scorpius said. “I don’t think she wanted to be there at all. She could barely look at me.”

“If you feel like you need to talk to her, then you should,” Albus said. Scorpius gave him a grateful smile.

Draco nodded and ushered Scorpius down the hall with Albus and Harry following along. After a few steps, Albus groaned.

“Just give me the damn cane,” he said.

“Call it a walking stick if it makes you feel better,” Draco said over his shoulder. Albus rolled his eyes.

* * *

 

Scorpius found Pansy Parkinson at the end of the ward. One auror as seated near her bed, and the other was stationed at the door. Both nodded respectfully to Harry when he entered.

“I’ll only be a minute,” Scorpius said. Draco offered to accompany him, but Scorpius declined.

He approached her bed slowly, and cautiously, feeling the others’ eyes on his back the entire time. He pushed his glasses up on this nose nervously as Pansy saw him and sat up in the bed.

“Scorpius? What are you doing here?”

“Dad wanted me to see the healers,” he told her. “And Albus got hurt.”

She looked past him to where Draco, Albus and Harry stood. Albus snarled at her.

“Please tell him I’m sorry to hear that,” Pansy said. She looked back up at Scorpius and moved as if to fold her hands in her lap, but only scraped the handcuff attached to the rail along the metal rung, earning a reproachful look from the nearest auror.

“Why’d you do it?” Scorpius asked. When Pansy didn’t answer, he continued. “You clearly weren’t into it like the others. So why were you even there?”

“I lost everything after the war,” she said. “I told you that. Daphne started off talking about helping the pure-blood families reorganize and reassert their authority, and when I agreed to help her... I had no idea...”

“I believe you,” Scorpius said. “But you didn’t back out when she asked you to kidnap me.”

“I didn’t know it was you until we were there,” Pansy said. “Otherwise I never...”

“So you would have kidnapped some other guy willingly, but not me?”

Pansy looked down and said nothing.

“I didn’t know what she was going to do.”

“That’s all I needed to know,” Scorpius said. He turned and walked away slowly, his energy waning, and Pansy called after him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Save it for the trial,” Scorpius called back. When he reached the door, Draco wrapped an arm around him.

“Did you find out what you needed?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius said. “She only tried to help me because I’m your son. That really clears up a lot.”

Draco sighed and shook his head, looking back to Pansy in the distance.

“It wasn’t what I wanted to hear,” Scorpius said.

* * *

 

The sun was already low in the sky when they arrived back at the manor. Pokey greeted them at the door and squeaked when he saw Scorpius’ face.

“Master Scorpius!”

“I’m fine, Pokey,” Scorpius assured him, handing over his coat. “I’ll be fine.”

“Is there something Pokey or Pike can do?”

Scorpius smiled sadly and shook his head.

“Not really,” he said. “But some of those lovely brownies you make would be a nice distraction.”

Pokey agreed, happy to have a task, and Scorpius hung his head as he walked away.

“What is it?” Albus asked quietly.

“Everyone keeps asking what they can do,” Scorpius answered. “Drinking those potions and eating isn’t going to help.”

Albus sighed and ran his hand over Scorpius’ shoulder. “Can you think of anything that will help?”

Scorpius opened his mouth to say that an entire bottle of firewhiskey might do the trick, but was cut off by a whimper that echoed in the atrium.

“Scorpius?”

He looked over to see Ainsley with her arms wrapped around herself, looking uncertain. In her oversized Hufflepuff sweater and her hair down, she didn’t look as much like her mother - or maybe Scorpius had simply gotten better acquainted with Daphne’s face and could pinpoint all the differences. Still, the similarity to her mother was gut wrenching. He steeled himself for her sake.

She took a step forward, uncertain.

Scorpius gave her a sad, apologetic smile as Albus stepped back.

“Hi, Ainsley,” Scorpius said.

“Can I hug you?” Ainsley asked, uncertain. “Because you look like I might break you if I do.”

He didn’t answer and just held his arms out to her. Ainsley rushed to him and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Scorpius,” she said.

“Why does everyone keep apologizing to me?” Scorpius asked, hugging her tight. It was easier when he wasn’t looking at her. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t help you fight them off.”

“Well, they were crazy,” Scorpius said. “And I’m glad you didn’t put up more of a fight, because they clearly didn’t have any problem with the Unforgivable Curses.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Scorpius said.

“Did they use them on you?”

Albus shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Clearly, the depth of Daphne’s hatred had not yet been explained to her.

“Well, yes,” said Scorpius. “But I’d rather not discuss it.”

Ainsley shook her head, still clinging to her cousin.

“I should have known she was up to something,” Ainsley said. “She was gone all the time.”

“I’m just sorry that this is affecting you,” Scorpius said, releasing her. Ainsley stepped back, wiping tears from her face. She gave Albus a small glance before looking down.

“Hi, Albus.”

“Hey.”

“Have you talked to my dad?” Scorpius asked. “He said you can stay here as long as you like.”

Ainsley nodded.

“Yeah, it’s just...”

“It’s not home,” Scorpius said. “I know. But there’s plenty of space and... well, we’re here.”

“It’s all over the papers,” she said. “I’m not looking forward to going back to school.”

“You’ll get by,” Scorpius said. “My dad did. Some people still ask me if I’m the spawn of Voldemort, so it’s possible to make it through.”

“Yeah, and you have friends. And we have friends, so you can stay with us. We won’t let anyone bother you,” said Albus.

Ainsley smiled at them through her tears.

“Thanks.”

Scorpius looked back at Albus, who was leaning heavily on his cane.

“Let’s get you sitting down,” Scorpius said, and Albus nodded gratefully.

As they walked toward the sitting room - Scorpius was eager to get back to a fireplace - Ainsley asked -

“How did you get hurt? The papers didn’t say too much.”

“Albus, my dad and Harry all rushed in to break me out,” Scorpius told her. “I was about two seconds too late to stop the curse that hit him.”

“At least no one was killed,” Ainsley said in an attempt at optimism.

“Not for lack of trying,” Albus mubled.

Scorpius opened the doors to the sitting room and was grateful to find it warm.

“What?”

“Selwyn actually did try to kill me,” Albus said, dismissive. “I dodged, but I really think he would have tried again -”

“He tried to kill you?”

Albus sat down on the couch in front of the fire.

“Well, yeah,” Albus said. “Before we pushed them back, he cast Avada -”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Scorpius interrupted, sitting next to him. “So you not only got hurt - you almost died.”

“But I didn’t, and that’s what matters.”

Scorpius stared at him, then shook his head.

“This is all just so -”

“Awful? Disappointing? Upsetting? Devestating?” Ainsley supplied.

“All of the above,” said Scorpius.

Draco entered and saw the three teenagers staring into the fire blankly.

“Will the three of you at least perk up for a New Year’s Eve dinner?”

Albus rested his head on Scorpius’ shoulder with a sigh.

“Scorpius, there are people who want to see you. The Minister and -”

“So my entire family?” Albus asked preemptively.

“Yes,” Draco admitted. “Essentially. They’ve asked to visit and see that you’re alright for themselves.”

“Fine,” Scorpius sighed. He wrapped his arm around Albus and stroked his hair. “Fine, but I’m exhausted. Just dinner.”

“Just dinner,” Draco agreed, coming around the back of the couch and kissing the top of his son’s head. “There are people who care about you who have been so deeply concerned.”

Scorpius nodded and gave Draco a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“It will be good to see them,” Scorpius said.

“Ainsley? Would you come with me?” Draco asked. He held his hand out to his niece, who regarded it for a moment before taking it, and Scorpius cringed. Her hands were identical to her mother’s, and he turned his head, resting his chin atop Albus’ head.

“Why?” Ainsley asked as she stood.

“I’d like to acquaint you with our house elves,” Draco said, “so they may know what you like to eat.”

“That’s nice,” Ainsley said, as if the idea was foreign to her.

When they were gone, Scorpius slumped back against the couch.

“I don’t want to see anyone,” Scorpius said. “Saint Mungo’s was terrible.”

“That’s the trouble with having family,” Albus said. “They worry about you, and then they have to see you themselves to make sure you’re okay.”

“So they’re coming to see you?”

Albus looked up and shook his head, his nose an inch from Scorpius. He smiled and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

“Not at all,” Albus said. “They love you, Scorp. You’re quite lovable. Over this last year, they’ve come to know you and care for you. Once you’ve got a Weasley sweater, you’re one of us.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Better drink those potions!  
> Poor Scorpius just wants a nap.


	27. Sorry

There were too many hands on him, too many arms around him, and too many voices. They were friendly, well-intentioned, and concerned, and Scorpius told himself that over and over again, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. His heart kept pounding like it had at Saint Mungo’s, and he gripped is bottle of pumpkin juice unnecessarily tight.

 _At least_ , he thought,  _I’m not setting things on fire anymore._

Hermione was telling him all about the Ministry’s efforts to find him - how she’d diverted every resource she had, but that it still wasn’t enough - and was lamenting the length of time it had taken for him to be found.

“All those aurors and it was still Harry who found you in the end,” she said. “We turned over every rock we could think of and chased every lead. I guess Harry really does deserve his position.”

Scorpius looked across the room at Albus, who was leaning on the table cornered by Ron and Hugo, who was asking excitedly about the battle. Albus looked uncomfortable.

 _It wasn’t all Harry,_  Scorpius thought.

Rose and Lily appeared out of nowhere to tell him how worried everyone had been, and how even in Gryffindor they’d had moments of silence and had cooperated with the Ministry’s questioning.

“Even Taylor seemed worried about you,” Lily said. It took a moment for Scorpius to realize why that even mattered. School seemed like a lifetime away.

The girls kept chattering, but he didn’t hear them. He looked across the room and caught Albus looking back at him, concerned, and watched as he excused himself from the conversation and limped over to where he stood.

“Oh, I’m so sorry you got hurt, Al,” Lily said. She hugged her brother for the fifth time that day. “Do you think it will get better soon?”

“I hope so,” Albus said.

“I’m not sure how you’re going to stay on a broom like that,” Rose said. “And I want to beat Slytherin - don’t get me wrong - but I don’t want to do it because you’re crippled.”

“I’m not crippled,” Albus all but growled.

“I am looking forward to getting back, though,” Lily said. “It didn’t really feel like Christmas this year with everyone gone all the time.”

“Sorry,” Scorpius muttered, looking down.

“It’s not that,” Lily backtracked. “It was just a strange break is all.”

“It was,” said Ginny, approaching. She looked at Albus accusingly. “It would be good for you to spend some time at home this week before you go back to school.”

Albus nodded, but wasn’t ready to commit to the idea.

Scorpius picked at his third brownie, eating tiny bits to have something to do with his hands. He was having trouble meeting everyone’s eyes and their concern, while touching, was grating on him.

“Are you okay?” Albus asked quietly. Scorpius felt the warmth of Albus’ hand between his shoulder blades and it grounded him. He nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s just been a long day.”

Ron appeared out of nowhere and started talking to Scorpius about the gossip he’d unintentionally dug up in Diagon Alley while searching for information about his whereabouts.

Albus caught Pike picking up discarded plates and cups, weaving through his family members mostly unnoticed, and motioned her over. His instinct to crouch down to talk to her was checked by a sharp pain in his hip when he shifted his weight.

“Pike,” he said softly. “Do you think you could go light the fireplace in Scorpius’ room so it can warm up? And maybe take up some of that apple tea he likes?”

“Of course, Master Albus,” she said quietly.

“And maybe a couple more of those brownies? He hasn’t really stopped eating them all night.”

She nodded and took off, presumably to do just what Albus had asked, and Draco approached while Scorpius was still listening to Ron’s banter.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Draco asked Albus.

Albus shook his head. “No. I think he’s still in a bit of shock,” he said. “He’s getting tired. I hope you don’t mind - I realize I didn’t ask, but I told him I’d stay with him. I hope it’s not a problem… that it’s not weird.”

“Under any other circumstances it might be,” said Draco, looking at Scorpius. “But frankly, I’m quite grateful he has you right now.”

When Draco gave Albus a pat on the back before turning away to talk to Harry, Albus knew his relationship with both his own father and Draco was irreversibly altered. While they’d been searching, Albus had been so focused on finding Scorpius that he hadn’t considered how things would change with their fathers, but there was no denying it had.

Ainsley approached and handed Albus another drink.

“Everyone’s really friendly,” she said softly. “I normally don’t get to see people during breaks. Mum’s is pretty quiet and she’d keep me at home a lot.”

“You’ll like it here,” Albus said. “Especially over the summer. Scorpius and I -”

“I’m sorry,” he heard Scorpius say suddenly, and a bit louder than necessary. Scorpius looked around Ron as he took a step back, gesturing to everyone else in the room. “I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. I’m really grateful that you all came over for dinner - it was lovely and I appreciate it, but I have to go to sleep.”

“Of course,” said Hermione, with a chorus of agreement.

Lily looked disappointed.

“You’re not staying up until midnight?” she asked.

“I can’t, honestly,” Scorpius said. Albus could see the forced politeness on his face and knew he wasn’t too far from snapping. He turned around to his parents.

“I’ll come ‘round tomorrow if I can,” he said quietly.

“You’re staying here?” Ginny looked surprised, but Harry did not.

“I need to,” he said, apologizing though he didn’t mean it. Scorpius was staring at him, waiting, and Albus grabbed his cane from the back of a nearby chair before grabbing his hand and following him out the door.

Albus opened his mouth to ask if Scorpius was okay, but he knew he’d lie, and judging by the death grip he’d seized Albus’ hand with, he was eager to get out of sight.

Scorpius didn’t say anything when they got to the stairs. He just wrapped his arm around Albus’ waist and helped steady him as they took slow steps up, one after the other, until they reached the top.

“Well, that’s going to be fun at Hogwarts,” Albus lamented.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius said. It felt like the millionth time he’d apologized that day.

“For what?”

“If it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have been hurt,” Scorpius said. He stayed a few steps ahead of Albus and pushed open the door to his bedroom. “If I’d gotten there a few seconds faster...”

“Scorpius, no,” Albus said. He nudged the door closed with his cane and set it against the wall. “Please don’t.”

“What? Apparently, I ruined Christmas. You’re hurt and you might not get better.”

“It’s not like I was ever going to be a pro Quidditch player,” Albus said in an attempt at humor. It failed.

Scorpius crossed the room and pulled his wardrobe open roughly, tossing a pair of pajamas at Albus’ face.

“No, but you still have your whole life ahead of you,” Scorpius said. “And you’re in pain. I know you’re trying to hide it.”

Albus sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the fire, bending awkwardly to take off his shoes.

“And I’ve never seen dad look so tired -”

“Well, we didn’t sleep a lot,” Albus defended.

“Because of me.”

“Because of  _Daphne_ ,” Albus said firmly. “And Selwyn. And Travers. And Parkinson. They did this. Not you.”

Scorpius took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

“I know,” he relented. “But it doesn’t feel like that.”

Albus moved to stand, but his leg wasn’t having it and Scorpius shook his head.

“Just stay here,” he said, walking to the bathroom. “I’ll be back.”

Albus changed carefully. Scorpius’ pajamas came down a bit too long in his legs - and Albus remembered a few months before when Scorpius had triumphantly realized that he was now just a bit taller.

 _That was so long ago,_  Albus thought.

When Scorpius reappeared, Albus was standing over the small fireplace, holding his hands out to the warmth.

“I feel older now,” Albus said. “I had to ask your dad if it was okay that I stay here, and I told my mum and she was surprised, and it seemed so… small.”

Scorpius walked over to him slowly and Albus shook his head, staring at the flames.

“How is it that after all this we’re still seventeen? That we still have to go back to school?”

“I want to go back,” Scorpius said. Albus looked at him, the delicate, straight lines of his face thrown into sharp relief by the shadows. He saw the remains of freckles across his nose and under his eyes and a faint quiver in his lower lip.

“I want to go back to normal,” Scorpius said. “Even if it’s trivial.”

“Let’s start a new book tomorrow,” Albus offered. “We can pick one from the library. Anything you want.”

Scorpius nodded, but didn’t smile, and turned away to climb into bed.

Albus followed slowly.

“Do you want me to sleep here or over there?” Albus asked, pointing to the window seat that was more than big enough for him to sleep on.

“If you sleep over there, I’m not going to sleep at all,” Scorpius said.

“Okay,” Albus said, pulling back the covers and sliding into the bed. It was soft - softer than his bed at Hogwarts - and the pillows molded to his back when he sat up.

“I just wasn’t sure,” Albus said. “We never really did the whole same-bed thing...”

Scorpius turned over and looked up at him, and Albus brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“I used  _you_  as a mattress last night,” Scorpius said, and Albus laughed a little. “And I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. I’m not ashamed to admit that I need you right now.”

Albus slid down and laid his head on the pillow next to Scorpius, looking at him.

“I need you too,” he admitted. “So we’re even.”

He watched as Scorpius’ eyelids got heavier.

“Does all this mean that you’ll let me take you to Italy this summer?”

Albus rolled his eyes and grinned.

“I’ll let you take me to hell this summer if you want,” he said.

He stayed awake for a long time after Scorpius fell asleep, counting the freckles on his nose and trying to make sense of everything that had happened for the both of them.

* * *

 

_The Black Forest is dark and I can’t see the sky through the trees - their trunks just darker shadows in the night._

_I’m walking. I can’t see the ground in front of me, but I walk all the same. I’m going somewhere, but I don’t know where._

_There’s a rustling around me, and I turn and turn, twigs snapping beneath my feet, leaves crunching. There’s snow on the ground, and I realize I’m barefoot._

_Why am I barefoot in the forest? Where am I going?_

_Another rustle. Another woosh. I turn and turn but there’s nothing there._

_Where are my robes? It’s so cold, and my hands are so heavy._

_Why are my hands so heavy?_

_I see it - a shadow in the shadows. A Dementor gliding through the trees, and another, and another, from all sides. I want to run, but they’re all around me._

_“Think about Albus,” comes Severus Snape’s voice through the trees. “You’re giving up your kingdom for Albus, right?”_

_But where is Albus? I look all around me and all I see are Dementors closing in, and the ground beneath me shifts and changes and I stumble._

_When I fall, it’s not into dirt and leaves - it’s onto cold stone, thick with dirt and dust and dead bugs. The trees have morphed into the pillars and walls of the Gingras dungeon, but I’m not alone. One of the Dementors has followed me and I scramble back from it, trying to think of Albus, to picture his face when he laughs, but the edges are fuzzy - like someone I haven’t seen for a long time._

_When did I last see Albus?_

_The Dementor pulls back its hood, and it’s not a normal Dementor. It has eyes and a face, though the skin is grey and cracked like the Dementors I’ve seen._

_It’s Daphne, or part of her, and she leans over me and I try and try to think of Albus, and I try to conjure any happy thought, but all my memories are too far away and I’m falling -_

* * *

 

If the thrashing wouldn’t have woken Albus, the scream surely would have. Scorpius yelled, his voice echoing around his bedroom, and sat upright in the bed, clutching his chest and gasping for air. Albus sat up, coming to consciousness quickly, and placed his hand on Scorpius’ back, pulling him close.

“Scorp?” he asked. “What happened?”

Scorpius didn’t answer. He couldn’t find his voice - he’d left it somewhere back in the nightmare. Hovering in front of him still was the Daphne-Dementor’s face, twisted and distorted, and he felt a sense of being pulled from himself - just like he’d imagine a Dementor’s kiss would feel at the start.

“Scorp?”

Scorpius looked at him, blinking furiously against the blurriness without his glasses, his blue eyes wide and his face pale. Still clutching his chest, Scorpius leaned forward and placed his head against his knees, and the gasping gave way to sobbing.

Albus did the only thing he could. He pulled Scorpius closer, letting him collapse into his chest, and held him while he cried. He didn’t need to know what the nightmare had been about - Scorpius had seen and felt some horrific things, and he remembered the sleepless nights after the time turner, but it wasn’t like this. Maybe he’d been too young to understand - or maybe Albus had been too naive to notice or to ask if he was okay.

He held Scorpius as he cried, grateful in some part that he had someone to cry on, and that he could be that person. He held him while Scorpius gripped his shirt as if he was afraid Albus wasn’t real, and when Scorpius finally calmed, Albus kissed the top of his head and told him that everything would be okay.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius said eventually. His voice was raw, and the vulnerability of it made Albus hold him tighter.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m crying like a child.”

“You’re crying like a human,” Albus said. Scorpius sat up and looked at him - his face splotchy and red, and he used the corner of his quilt to dry under his eyes.

“I don’t like feeling this weak,” Scorpius admitted. “You’ve always been the strong one, but -”

“I’ve never thought so,” Albus said.

Scorpius looked at him from beneath the disheveled curtain of his hair.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel normal again,” Scorpius whispered.

“You were never normal, love,” Albus teased as Scorpius leaned back into him, his head against Albus’ shoulder. “But you’ll find a new normal.”

Scorpius wrapped his arms around Albus’ waist as he closed his eyes, and Albus watched out the window as owls swooped back and forth across the moon, delivering New Year’s greetings and well wishes to the Malfoy family.

* * *

 

In the morning, things were clearer – that there was work that only time could do. Scorpius spent the day in the library with a blanket wrapped about his shoulders. Albus read to him from a book of Grimm’s Fairy Tales – a suggestion from Draco, since it was one of Scorpius’ childhood favorites – until his voice was hoarse, and when lunchtime came Draco ate with them on the floor.

While Scorpius dozed off on the couch in the early afternoon, Albus worked on their assignments from school, and heard his father’s voice in the distance – voices carried in the silence of the manor, he’d found.

“How is he doing today?”

“The shock has worn off,” he heard Draco say. “He and Albus are in the library. Last I checked Scorpius had fallen asleep.”

“Is Al okay?”

“He’s fine. They’re keeping to themselves and it’s… it’s difficult, Harry. That my son doesn’t need me.”

“He needs you, Draco. But he and Al have been together the majority of the last seven years. Think about it. Most of the year he wakes up in the next bed over. To them it’s just normal.”

“I know,” said Draco. The voices were indistinct for a moment, and Albus limped closer to the door to hear.

“James is coming home for a few days,” Harry said. Albus pressed his hear to the crack in the double doors. “I don’t think Al is going to leave Scorpius. Can they both come over to our place? He can stay with us, and you’re welcome anytime.”

There was silence for a moment, and Albus held his breath. He didn’t want any arguing – any more stress – for Scorpius’ sake or his own. He was so tired.

“That’s fine,” came Draco’s voice, finally. “I know Scorpius liked spending time at your house over the summer. He liked the muggle films.”

Albus heard his father’s laugh and he smiled.

“You’d like some of them too if you’d give it a shot,” Harry said. “Your dad isn’t here to judge, you know.”

“You’re probably right,” Draco admitted. Albus stepped back from the door and looked back to Scorpius. His legs were tangled in his blanket and his glasses had half fallen off his face, threatening to take out one of his eyes if he moved wrong.

Albus crept over as quietly as he could with a lame leg and carefully removed the glasses from Scorpius’ face. He looked peaceful, and Albus didn’t want to do anything to disturb him. He lowered himself to the floor and continued with the assignment, staying close just in case Scorpius needed him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	28. Reverent

“They’re not going to make me sleep on the couch, are they?” Scorpius said, picking up his duffel bag.

“No, that would be stupid,” Albus replied. He laced up his shoes.

It had been three days, and the Malfoy Manor sitting room had been put back to normal, with Draco and Scorpius’ armchairs in their place before the fireplace. Everything was pristine around the manor again, save for the library, where Albus and Scorpius had constructed an elaborate fort of blankets and pillows the previous afternoon, following a long morning of giving reports at the Ministry.

Draco had instructed the house elves to leave that until the boys returned to Hogwarts after he’d found them asleep in it that morning.

“We’ll be back in a couple days,” Albus assured him. “And if you can’t rest there or if you don’t like it, we’ll come back.”

“But your brother is there,” Scorpius said. “You haven’t seen him in ages.”

“My brother has barely spoken to me in ages,” Albus said. “He’s either not around or just doesn’t talk to me.”

Scorpius picked up a stack of discarded copies of  _The Daily Prophet_  from the last few days. His own face stared up at him - an old photo of himself from Hogwarts under the oversized headline  _Scorpius Malfoy Found!_

The next read  _Malfoy and Potter Families Spotted at Saint Mungo’s._ Below was a photo showing Draco shielding Scorpius from the reporters and their cameras with Harry helping Albus along behind them. Scorpius watched as the photo cycled and Draco’s hand waved the reporter away again and again.

The third, and perhaps most damning, was the paper from yesterday. The photos were smaller, but there were more. School photos of Scorpius, Albus, and Ainsley stared back at him, surrounded by text - they were grinning and laughing from the last photo day in September. The photographer - Dennis Creevy - had been particularly funny.

The account of what had happened didn’t need to be sensationalized, but what was published in the  _Prophet_  was incomplete. They’d left out chunks of the torture, and the ‘re-education’ scheme, since it was part of a pending investigation, and had instead focused more on the damning accounts of Scorpius’ powers and Albus’ injury, and painted Ainsley as the clueless child who may or may not have been complicit in her mother’s plans.

Ainsley appeared at Scorpius’ side and placed her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve always hated that photo of myself,” Scorpius said lightly, as if it was the only thing of note on the page. He folded the papers and threw the back down on the table.

“It’s a great photo,” Ainsley said. “You’re laughing.”

“He hates the way his eyes crinkle up when he laughs,” Albus told her. “I think it’s quite handsome.”

“I do too,” Ainsley agreed. Scorpius shook his head and smiled at him, drawing Ainsley into a hug.

“Come to dinner with dad tonight,” Scorpius told her. “Harry makes a mean roast, and I’ve been promised mashed potatoes and a film.”

“I’ll try,” she said with a smile. She handed Albus his cane as he stood which he accepted gratefully. Scorpius hated seeing him use it, but he hated the cringing when he limped along without it even more, so he held his tongue.

“We’ll see you later,” Albus said, holding his hand out for Scorpius, who took it gratefully.

Together, with Ainsley waving goodbye, they stepped into the fireplace.

* * *

 

The Potter household may have been cozier, but it was also more hectic. The Malfoy Manor had lent itself well to Scorpius’ need for quiet, and he’d slept for most of the last 48 hours, mostly on Albus’ shoulders and lap.

When they stepped out of the fireplace, they were greeted immediately with Lily’s screams.

“Bloody hell, James!” she shrieked from another room. “Just because you don’t live here anymore doesn’t mean you get to eat all the eggs like it’s okay!”

“Language, young lady!” cried Ginny from another room.

“I was hungry!” roared James from upstairs.

“Can you keep it down?” yelled Harry from the couch before the fire. Scorpius jumped. He hadn’t even realized Harry was in the room. “I’m trying to concentrate!”

Harry had several folders spread out around him on the sofa, but smiled up at Albus and Scorpius over his glasses.

“Hello,” he said warmly, setting the open file aside. “Scorpius, you’re looking much better.”

“Albus and my dad have been taking very good care of me,” Scorpius assured him as he stood. Harry held out his hands for Scorpius’ and examined the rings around his wrists. They were almost healed, but had left a circle of rough scar tissue just below his watch.

“At least that’s healing,” Harry said, looking to Albus. “And how’s that leg?”

“Sore as hell,” Albus said, “but it’s steady. Not getting worse.”

“Well, that’s something,” Harry said. Albus eyed his broom in the corner of the room, and looked away quickly before he thought Scorpius noticed.

But Scorpius noticed anyway.

* * *

 

Ainsley and Draco arrived at seven o’clock on the dot, and Scorpius was waiting on the other side of the fireplace for them. It had been a long day of James chattering about the last six months. He’d been working as a curse breaker with Bill, who had finally let him take on some of the more dangerous travel assignments, and had some sensational or sensationalized stories - Scorpius wasn’t sure which.

“Oh, this is nice,” Ainsley said as she looked around, giving Draco and Scorpius a chance to embrace. Draco had been antsy all day with Scorpius out of the house, and it showed on his face when he stepped into the Potter’s home.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked when he released Scorpius.

Scorpius nodded and smiled. “Yeah, we just stayed around here today. It was pretty normal.”

“Normal?” Draco asked. “Normal is good.”

With that, a loud crash and the sound of shattering glass came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of James’ voice.

“Damn it, Al! Watch where you’re going!”

Scorpius walked through the dining room and into the kitchen, where a casserole dish lay in piece on the tile. Harry had his hands full with the stove and barely looked over his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” said Albus. “Here, let me get my wand -”

“Why can’t you just watch where you’re going?”

“James?” Harry turned around, concerned.

“What?” said James. “I know he’s got a limp, but for Dumbledore’s sake -”

Albus waved his wand and repaired the empty dish to its former state before bending over at great personal expense and picking it up.

“It’s just a casserole dish,” Albus said. “What’s the problem?”

James took it from him roughly and set it on the counter where Harry needed it and didn’t say another word.

Albus looked at Scorpius, completely confused, and Scorpius slipped into the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Scorpius asked. “My dad and Ainsley are here, by the way.”

“No, I think we’re good,” said James. “You and Al can run along. Dad and I have this.”

Harry looked at James as if he’d grown another head, but said nothing.

“Just let me take the plates,” Albus said.

“I’ve got it,” said James, scooping them up. He shuffled past Albus into the dining room without a word.

“Did you two get into a fight?” Harry asked.

“No,” said Albus. “But he’s been like that for most of the day.”

“I don’t think he likes me much,” said Scorpius. “I don’t think he likes it when I’m around.”

“It’s not you,” said Harry, carrying the bowl of mashed potatoes past them. “And if it is, then it’s his problem to deal with.”

* * *

 

Dinner was full of pleasant conversation - the kind Scorpius didn’t feel pressured to join, for which he was grateful. He listened as Lily talked about her day with her friends in Diagon Alley, and as James told his family another story from work - this time about a trip to Russia. He listened as his father and Harry talked about Quidditch, and as Lily and Ainsley chatted about their favorite classes, which James seemed to find suspiciously interesting, and when the chatter started to be too much - too trivial for Scorpius to wrap his head around in his current state, Albus reached for his hand under the table and held it tight.

“Are you okay?” Albus asked softly as Ginny started arguing with Draco about whether or not the Harpies stood a chance in the rest of the season.

“Yeah,” said Scorpius, picking at the remainder of his roast beef. “I’m fine.”

“I know it’s louder here than it’s been the last few days,” said Albus. “Thank you for being here.”

“Like vecro, right?” Scorpius said.

Albus laughed, and held Scorpius’ hand even tighter, and Scorpius’ mood brightened just a bit. Albus was relaxed and the lines on his face had eased more over the last day - he looked more like himself.

“It’s Velcro,” Albus corrected. The soft smile on his face was enough to undo Scorpius’ focus, who just looked at him without saying anything.

“What?” Albus asked.

Scorpius shook his head and said “I’ll tell you later.”

* * *

 

After dinner, Albus and James were put on dish duty while everyone else settled into the living room to select a film - which usually turned into a half-hour ordeal in which votes were taken. Albus carried the dishes to the sink and stacked them up while James stood back, cleaning them with a quick spell.

“Is everything okay?” Albus asked once they were alone. “You seem like you’ve been mad at me for ages.”

James sighed, but didn’t look at him. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry about earlier. I know you’ve been through the ringer lately.”

“So what’s going on?”

“You don’t want to hear about it.”

“If it’s got you being such a nutter, then I think I do.”

James started levitating the plates and silverware back to their rightful places.

“I was seeing someone. We broke up a few days ago.”

“I didn’t know that. I didn’t even know you were with anyone.” said Albus. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d care much about my girl problems,” James said.

“Why wouldn’t I -” Albus cut himself off. “ _That’s_  what this is about?”

“I mean, what  _am_ I supposed to talk to you about?” James asked.

“This is about me being with Scorpius?”

“I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore.”

James leaned back on the counter as the dishes finished placing themselves and folded his arms, as Albus watched, mouth agape.

“Just to clarify - this is about me and Scorpius?”

“It’s not about him” James said. “Specifically. It’s the fact that I was completely blindsided by you being gay.”

“You and me both,” said Albus, leaning on his cane. He glanced at it with distain.

“Listen,” continued Albus, “it’s not like I spent the last few years drooling over your friends when they came around. It’s not like that, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

James didn’t say anything, and Albus knew he’d struck a chord.

“I’m not even sure I’m actually gay,” said Albus. “I never had to think about it. I just fell in love with my best mate and that was it.”

“You’re lucky,” said James quietly. “You really are.”

“And I remember that every day. Especially now.”

“How bad was it?” James asked. Albus paused a beat to consider.

“Probably the worst it could have been without someone dying,” said Albus. “I’m not even sure how he survived and is still himself, to be honest.”

“What about that leg?”

“I don’t think it’s going to get better,” Albus said. It was the first time he’d said the words aloud and that somehow made them more real.

“I’m sorry, mate.”

“I’d be angry,” Albus said. “If it had happened any other way. But I was there for a reason. I’m making my peace with it.”

“I’d already scheduled my trip home when she broke up with me,” James said. “Just so you know. I needed to see you and dad were okay for myself.”

“And then you came home and were a complete prat.”

James looked down at his shoes, ashamed.

“I’m still Al,” Albus said. “It’s still the same me that wanted a dog when I was six and cried for three days when we realized Lily was allergic.”

James smiled. “And I got you that stuffed one that barked.”

Albus grinned. “I’ve still got it, actually. It’s in my trunk at Hogwarts.”

James was still clearly at a loss, so Albus continued.

“Just because I’m not out chasing after girls with you, or because I’m not on the same career path or whatever, doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me or tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re right,” said James. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Albus. “I just wish we’d talked about this sooner.”

“You just never needed me after you got to Hogwarts,” James said. “You always had Scorpius.”

Albus thought about what Draco had said one night after they’d stopped searching for the day - when he’d handed a glass of scotch to Albus and sat him down in Scorpius’ chair in front of the fire and looked up at Astoria’s portrait where she looked down at them, worried.

 _“I wish I’d met her when you and Scorpius met,”_ Draco had said wistfully.  _“To have had that much time...”_

“I’ve been luckier than I should have been,” Albus said. “I don’t deserve...”

“Yes, you do,” said James. “And I’m sorry if I -”

“Water under the bridge,” interrupted Albus.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway, and Albus turned to see Lily and Scorpius.

“We picked a film,” said Lily.

“Something called  _Batman Begins_?” Scorpius said.

Lily grinned conspiratorially and whispered behind Scorpius’ shoulder - “Draco will hate it.”

* * *

 

It was late when Draco and Ainsley left, and James, who had held them up by explaining superheroes to Ainsley, followed them to the fireplace as Scorpius and Draco said their goodbyes.

“So Lucius Fox isn’t a wizard?” Ainsley asked.

“No,” said James. “He just makes cool technology for Batman to use.”

“And Batman isn’t a wizard?”

“Batman is human.”

“But Superman isn’t?”

“No.”

“But he’s not a wizard either?”

“No, Superman is from another planet,” James said laughing.

“Muggles are confusing,” Ainsley said, looking up at him.

“You just need to watch more muggle films,” James said, gesturing to the tower behind her. “We’ve got plenty.”

“Come along, Ainsley,” Draco said. “It’s getting late.”

Ainsley smiled at James and kissed Scorpius on the cheek before bidding everyone farewell and following Draco into the fire.

“She seems nice,” James said after they left. “It’s a shame what you’ve all been through.”

“Speaking of,” Scorpius said. “I’m exhausted.”

Albus agreed and bid a good night to his family, and together, he and Scorpius climbed the stairs to his bedroom, Albus relying heavily on the railing to keep his balance.

Albus’ room, Scorpius had learned, was the smallest bedroom in the house, and since it was covered in Quidditch posters and banners, it seemed even smaller. It didn’t help that Albus wasn’t the most organized person he’d ever met, and Scorpius often had to fight the impulse to organize the books and clothes.

He didn’t have that impulse as Albus stood in the center of the room and stretched and yawned, reaching toward the ceiling. He closed the door behind them and placed his palms against it.

“What are you doing?” Albus asked.

“Sound proofing this room,” Scorpius said. He looked at the door handle and Albus heard the lock click.

“Why? Is there something we need to talk about?” Albus asked.

“I don’t want to talk,” Scorpius said, leaving the door. Albus opened his mouth to ask questions, but wasn’t given the chance. Scorpius’ arms were around his waist and he kissed him hard, with purpose.

Albus wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ neck, kissing him back gently and carefully, telling him without words that there was no reason to rush - they had all the time in the world now.

Albus kissed down Scorpius’ jaw and neck, and he felt Scorpius’ hands come up the back of his shirt - warmer than they should be - pressed lightly between his shoulder blades.

“You’re not going to set the bed on fire or anything, are you?” Albus asked.

“Literally? Or metaphorically?” Scorpius asked with a lightness in his voice that had been missing.

Albus smiled against the pale skin of his neck. He liked where this was going.

Albus lifted his arms over his head and Scorpius pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Albus took Scorpius’ glasses from his face and folded them, setting them atop his desk.

“You won’t need them until morning,” Albus said before kissing him again, unbuttoning Scorpius’ shirt blindly, clumsily, as Scorpius’ impatient fingers wound around his hair.

Albus made sure when they finally made it to the bed that they wound up under the blanket - Scorpius had been cold for days, and another snowstorm was starting to rage outside. He ran his hands over Scorpius’ sides - ribs and hipbones still more visible than they were before - and kissed the scars around his wrists lightly, carefully.

Scorpius watched him, taking in every kiss and every touch as if it were the last. The few times they’d slipped into the Room of Requirement before Scorpius had begun losing control had been eager affairs full of whispered questions as they learned each other, and Albus’ curiosity had often given way to an adorable impatience that left Scorpius laughing breathlessly.

He watched and felt as Albus made a study of him, leaning over him carefully, kissing his hands reverently, memorizing all the things he had taken for granted - all the things that could have become blurred memories if Scorpius hadn’t been found. Scorpius kept his hands warm, touching the sore places on Albus’ body so they wouldn’t hurt as much, and kept his eyes on him until they kissed again and he closed his eyes under Albus’ weight, his mind blissfully blank except for the taste of his mouth and the sound of his breath.

* * *

 

Albus lay facing Scorpius. They shared a pillow, and Albus pulled the covers up higher around them. Scorpius smiled sleepily, one arm draped lazily around Albus’ waist.

There was one more thing left to do before they fell asleep.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Albus asked as he had the last two nights.

“In your bed at home,” Scorpius replied quietly.

Albus brushed his hair back from his face lightly and stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers.

“Where are you going to wake up?”

“In your bedroom,” Scorpius said, closing his eyes.

“What are we going to do tomorrow?”

“You’re going to teach me about video games, and your mum is going to bake cookies.”

“And then?”

“And then my dad is coming over and we’re going out to dinner because I have to get used to the outside again,” Scorpius said.

“Good,” Albus said. He started over.

“Where are you going to sleep?”

  
Scorpius answered the questions three times until he fell asleep, thinking about where he was and where he was going to wake up, and for the first time in weeks, he slept through the night, warm and safe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys.
> 
> First, let me say that the response to this fic has been overwhelming. I'm so grateful for all the kind words and comments, and I can't wait to see how you feel about some of the coming chapters.
> 
> Secondly, I want to confirm that when this fic is complete, I will make it very clear that it is the end. There will be no ambiguity. 
> 
> Third - and absolutely most important - I/we all have been blessed by [Plati-arts'](http://plati-arts.tumblr.com/) today. Platina is an artist who drew the first pic of Scorpius with glasses that I fell in love with, and today, I received these two gorgeous pics in my inbox.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
>  
> 
> The second one is from the library scene in Chapter 12, but I referenced it again today. 
> 
> I'm legitimately going to have prints of these made and hang them up in my house. 
> 
> I'm so absolutely in love with these and the rest of Plati's work - Scorbus and otherwise. Yes, there's more and you should absolutely go check it out immediately. 
> 
> I'm hoping to have some more goodies for you soon. In the meantime, I've opened up an ask section on Tumblr in case you have any questions or just want to drop by and say hi. I'm over [here. ](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP


	29. Reflective

**Part 4**

 

When Albus awoke, he knew something was wrong. The little bit of light that was filtering in through the window was too low and bright for early morning, and the shadows in his room were too long. He felt the space between himself and the wall and found it empty, and for a moment, was in a state of complete and utter panic, scrambling to find clothes and stumbling over himself when his leg gave out.

He was halfway through pulling on a pair joggers and a sweater when he heard a laugh and music from downstairs and.

 _He just got up without me_ , Albus told himself. _That’s all_.

Albus walked down the stairs and found Lily and Scorpius sitting on the couch in front of the television, wrapped in several blankets as the snow continued to fall outside.

“Hi, Albus,” Lily said brightly when she saw him. Scorpius looked up at him and grinned. Albus noticed that his lips were bruised - just a little darker than usual - and he was wearing Albus’ old Chudley Cannons sweatshirt.

“Good morning,” he said.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Albus said, taking the last few stairs slowly. He kissed the top of Scorpius’ head when he reached the bottom and ruffled Lily’s hair.

“Sorry,” Scorpius said. “You were out cold, so I figured you needed the rest.”

Albus didn’t want to admit that he was probably right.

“Scorpius didn’t know what the word ‘Disney’ meant,” Lily said. “He’s getting an education.”

“Oh, no,” said Albus, realizing the music he’d heard was from ‘The Lion King.’

“Join us,” said Scorpius. “This is an excellent distraction.”

“You have fun with that,” said Albus. “I’m going to go work on our homework.”

“Oh, that,” Scorpius said. “I guess I should do my assignments before we go back.”

Albus shook his head. “I’ve got them all about half done. You can check them over and copy it later.”

“Are you sure?”

Albus started limping to the kitchen. “Yeah, I’ve been copying your homework for years. Only seems fair.”

* * *

 

Scorpius distracted himself for most of the afternoon, but when Lily said she had to go to her friend’s house for a birthday party, he was left in silence in the living room. Harry and Ginny were already back at work, and James had gone to check in with Bill at Gringotts.

He made it nearly five minutes alone in front of the television before darker thoughts started to creep in, so he wrapped the blanket around himself and went in search of Albus.

“How’s it going?” Scorpius asked when he found Albus at the dining room table, their school books and parchment spread across the surface.

“Almost done with Transfiguration,” Albus said. “Saved Care of Magical Creatures for the end since it’s easiest.”

“You never told me you’d wanted a dog,” Scorpius said.

“You heard that, huh?”

“Heard more of it than I was supposed to,” Scorpius told him. He leaned back on the table beside Albus, blocking his view of the book. “Why didn’t you tell me you and James were having problems?”

“Because I didn’t really know what they were about until yesterday,” Albus told him. “James has always been temperamental.”

“Does he have a problem with me?”

Albus looked up from the parchment and set the quill down.

“Absolutely not,” Albus said.

“I just don’t want to cause you any family issues,” Scorpius said. Albus wound his arms around Scorpius’ waist and turned his face against his stomach, realizing for the first time just how cold his nose was.

“You could never,” Albus said.

“Are we going to pass our classes?”

“I don’t know,” said Albus, his voice muffled. “You might want to check the assignments.”

Scorpius sat down beside him and together they worked through all the worked they’d missed - a harsh reminder that Scorpius only had a few days before the term started. As he went through their Potions homework line by line, Scorpius thought about the stares he’d get, how tired he’d be at the end of a full day, the likelihood of getting a full night’s sleep, and it seemed like too much too fast.

He’d been home for less than a week.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to go back,” Scorpius said quietly, setting the parchment down.

“What?”

“How am I supposed to sit through a Transfiguration test if I can’t even sit still for five minutes without hearing her voice?”

“Scorp,” Albus said, rubbing his back. “I’m going to be with you for most of it. And our friends will be with you too.”

“I’m really worried. What if I only think I’m in control?”

“If last night is any indication, you’ll be fine,” Albus said with a smirk. Scorpius gave him half a smile.

“If you can’t handle it, you can come home,” Albus said. “And I’ll come home on the weekends with your work.”

“I don’t want you to have to do that,” Scorpius said.

“But I will,” Albus said. “And this time next year you’ll be working in the archives and you’ll be the best first-year historian they’ve ever seen.”

“It’s hard to think that far ahead,” Scorpius said. “At least right now.”

“You’re going to get past this,” Albus assured him. “And I’m going to do everything I can to help you.”

Scorpius rested his head on Albus’ shoulder and watched quietly as he muddled through the rest of the Transfiguration assignment.

* * *

 

Scorpius and Albus were sitting in the fort of blankets with their books the night before they were due to return to Hogwarts. The Malfoy Manor had been largely quiet that day, and Pokey had been checking in on them hourly, keeping them supplied with hot chocolate.

When the door opened near dinner time, Scorpius didn’t look up.

“I think we’re good until dinner, Pokey.”

“Scorpius, can you please come out of your... whatever this is.”

“It’s a pillow for - oh.”

Scorpius poked his head out and looked up at Draco, who was standing a few feet away with his arms crossed. Behind him was the healer from Saint Mungo’s.

Albus looked out too, hearing the disappointment in Scorpius’ voice. After the fiasco that was his first night out in the real world, both Scorpius and Albus had been grateful for the peace and quiet, because neither had gotten much sleep.

“Hello,” Albus said.

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” Dania said. She was wearing normal clothes, and out of her Saint Mungo’s uniform, Scorpius found that she was even prettier. “I’m here to give you boys a once over and make sure you’re ready to return to school.”

“You were serious about the ‘clean bill of health thing,’ weren’t you?” Scorpius asked his father, climbing out of the pillow fort and helping Albus up. He looked at Dania, suddenly self-conscious.

“We don’t always do things like this,” he said. “We were just really bored the other day...”

“The holidays bring out the child in all of us,” Dania said. “My sister and I take a day each year to lay around in our pajamas and play Exploding Snap.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Scorpius.

“Your color has come back,” Dania said, looking over Scorpius’ face. “Let’s see those wrists.”

He pulled back the sleeves of his sweater to show her the pale, rough scars, trying not to look at them himself. She felt over them and nodded.

“They’ve healed as well as could be expected. How are the nightmares?”

“They’re okay,” said Scorpius. Albus glanced at him. The previous night hadn’t been easy.

“So they’re persistent?”

“I slept through the night once,” Scorpius said, looking at Draco. He stood behind Dania, silent, with his arms folded.

“It will start happening more and more,” she said. She spoke with such compassion and kindness that Scorpius almost believed her.

“Don’t be afraid to take a sleeping draught if you need it,” Dania said. “You can take it about twice a week without any side effects.”

“I never liked them much,” Scorpius told her. “I always feel so groggy after.”

“All the same,” Dania said. “Don’t be afraid to go to Madam Pomfrey if you need to.”

“You know Madam Pomfrey?”

Harry walked into the library and stood beside Draco. He looked confused for a moment before realizing the woman was the healer they’d spoken to.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Harry said.

“And you, Mr. Potter.”

Dania turned and looked at Albus.

“Let’s see you walk on that leg.”

“I’d rather not,” Albus said.

“That bad?”

“It’s not fun,” he told her, relenting. He took a few shaky steps. Harry and Draco watched closely as he limped a few meters, ready to catch him if he slipped, and Dania watched how he moved.

“Looks like it’s all in your hip and knee,” she said.

“I could have told you that,” Albus muttered, leaning on the edge of the black piano that dominated one corner of the room.

“Has it improved at all day-to-day?”

Albus looked at Scorpius. He didn’t want to lie, but he also knew Scorpius had been very concerned about whether or not his leg was going to heal.

“Not since the first couple days,” Albus admitted. “It’s been pretty steady since then.”

“It could still improve,” Dania said. Albus didn’t believe her. “You need to take care of it. Every night before bed, put a hot cloth or something warm on your joints.”

Dania turned to Draco and Harry. “I don’t see any reason why they can’t go back to Hogwarts. At least not physically.”

“Are you ready to go back, Scorpius?” Draco asked. “Be honest with yourself. It’s only been a week.”

“I don’t want to let them take any more of my life from me,” Scorpius said. “If I don’t go back then I’m just hiding here.”

“You can hide here if you want,” Draco said. “I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

Scorpius smiled at him. “I wouldn’t mind staying here with you. And I hate leaving you after everything. But I have to go back to school.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“And what about you, Al?” Harry asked. “Are you ready to go back?”

Was Albus ready to face his classmates with a limp and a cane? Was he ready for the stares he and Scorpius would get? Was he ready to step back into normal life after the most harrowing and abnormal experience he could imagine - one that he felt entirely changed after?

“No, but I’m going to anyway,” Albus said. “Like Scorpius said - either we go back now or we’re hiding.”

“I’m having extra security placed at Hogwarts,” Draco said. “They’ll be outside the Slytherin common room every night.”

“No, dad...” Scorpius whined. “Please don’t.”

“If you want to go back, that’s my condition,” Draco said. “Take it or leave it.”

Scorpius opened his mouth to protest, but Albus nodded.

“I’ll feel better with you having extra security,” Albus told him. “This isn’t a game. I know there doesn’t seem to be anyone else involved, but I’ll sleep better at night knowing there’s extra security out there to keep you safe.”

“And you,” said Harry. “Draco and I talked about this. You poked several hornets’ nests while we were searching. You broke into several houses -”

Albus cringed as Scorpius turned to him, looking offended.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“Indignation doesn’t suit you,” Albus said. “I did what I had to do.”

Scorpius’ expression softened as he thought of Albus scaling walls and breaking windows. It wasn’t a pretty picture, but he was touched none the less.

“Fine,” said Scorpius. “Security.”

Draco nodded slowly. “Then you can go back tomorrow. Though I would request the two of you and Ainsley Floo to Hogwarts rather than take the train.”

“That’s fine,” Albus said quickly before Scorpius could protest. Just the idea of navigating the platform and train with their things made his leg ache.

“Excellent,” said Dania brightly. “It seems that you have everything settled.”

“Thank you,” said Draco with a slight bow.

“I’ll show myself out,” she said, giving Scorpius and Albus one last smiled. Pokey stood at the door, ready to escort her.

She turned to Draco and spoke quietly. “And I’ll see you on Tuesday?”

“Of course,” said Draco with a small smile. She grinned, and Pokey showed her from the room. Draco looked at his feet, still smiling, while Harry, Albus and Scorpius watched her go, agape.

“Tuesday?” Scorpius asked after the door was closed. “What’s Tuesday?”

“She’s a half-blood, and she has training in magical healing and muggle medicine,” Draco said. “I was talking to her when I asked her to come approve your departure for school, and she suggested she might be of use to some of the Ministry’s new initiatives -”

“He has a date,” Harry interjected, grinning smugly. “Draco has a _date_.”

“We’re not twelve, Potter. You can stop,” Draco said, but Albus knew his father would do no such thing.

“A date?” Scorpius said.

“A date,” Harry confirmed.

“It’s not a date,” Draco said. “We’re going to discuss Ministry business.”

“Over lunch or dinner?” Albus asked.

Draco sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Dinner.”

“It’s a date,” Harry and Albus said in unison.

Draco, ignoring their teasing, looked up at Scorpius.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay,” Scorpius said. He paused for a beat, considering his words. The last thing he wanted was for his father to be alone while he was at Hogwarts, and later when Scorpius moved away. “I want you to be happy. And mum would want you to be happy too.”

Draco smiled at Scorpius and nodded, satisfied with his son’s answer, but still with a bit of sadness lingering in his eyes.

“It’s been several years,” Scorpius said. “You deserve to have someone special in your life. Not someone who’s more special than me, obviously.”

“Obviously,” said Draco with a small smile.

Harry resumed his teasing mercilessly, and as they escorted Scorpius and Albus out of the library to have dinner, Albus caught Scorpius peeking into the sitting room and glancing at his mother’s portrait.

* * *

 

Albus and Scorpius walked down the long, deserted hall toward the Slytherin dungeons after saying goodbye to Ainsley. Scorpius carried both their rucksacks down the hall, walking slowly beside Albus. The halls smelled of pine and bread carried back from dinner, and Scorpius almost regretted that they’d stayed at the Malfoy Manor so late.

“I don’t remember this corridor being so long,” Albus said with a groan. Scorpius’ heart ached watching him struggle - all because he’d been two seconds too late.

“Al, you can’t fly like that,” Scorpius said as they neared the portal.

“Can we not do this now?” Albus asked. Scorpius fell silent, his energy waning under the weight of their bags.

Scorpius muttered the password and the stone wall gave way to the rounded hall that spilled into the common room. Albus tried to straighten himself and failed miserably, and together, they walked in.

The room was full of Slytherins catching up on holiday gossip, swapping stories of presents and trips and family mishaps. The first years were huddled around a table covered in sweets and small toys they’d brought from home, and some of the older students were engaged in what appeared to be a heated battle of Exploding Snap.

Scorpius spotted Maggie sitting on Flint’s lap, laughing, surrounded by Pucey and Farley and a few of the Slytherin girls, and when they stepped into the cool glow of the lake windows and lanterns, a hush fell over the room.

Albus felt all the eyes on them at once - their friends and acquaintances - people they’d known for years, and instantly felt smaller than he’d felt in ages. He wanted badly to reach out for Scorpius - to ground himself - but Scorpius had a far-off look on his face that told him tonight wasn’t going to be a good night.

“Merlin’s beard,” Maggie said. She leapt off of Flint’s lap and ran toward them, wrapping her arms around Scorpius’ neck.

“You scared the hell out of us,” she told him. Scorpius hugged her back slowly at first, then all at once, as Flint, Farley and Pucey joined them, hugging Albus and then turning to Scorpius, enveloping them both in a warm embrace of concern and relief.

“We were so worried,” Pucey told them both. “I checked the papers every day.”

“Thank you for keeping us in the loop,” Farley said to Albus. “Even if it was just a little bit.”

“I kept asking Albus if we could help,” Flint said to Scorpius. “We kept checking in.”

“My dad’s at the Ministry,” Farley explained. “But he wouldn’t tell me anything. I kept asking though.”

Scorpius looked at their faces, his face wan and weary but grateful. Albus watched as Farley and Pucey took their bags from Scorpius, and Maggie put her hand on his shoulder, looking up at him.

“You look better than you did in the photo from the hospital,” she told him. “I was so worried when I saw that.”

“What happened, mate?” Farley asked. “I know what the paper said, but you can’t trust the Prophet.”

Scorpius looked at Albus. He wasn’t sure whose tale it was to tell anymore, or if either of them should tell it.

“Can we go to the dorm?” Albus asked quietly. “I need to sit down, and if we’re going to talk I’d rather not do it here.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said. She looked at Scorpius’ bags. “Where’s your cat?”

“I left her at home,” Scorpius admitted sadly. “It seemed like too much. I didn’t want to neglect her.”

With his hands freed, Scorpius walked with his arm around Albus’ waist to give him a bit more stability, for which Albus was grateful - he could feel Flint’s eyes on him, evaluating his every move.

“I won’t know how I am until I get on the pitch,” Albus said preemptively.

That, for the moment, seemed to be enough for him, though Albus saw him exchange a worried look with Farley.

As they walked to their dorm, Scorpius tried not to look at the first years gaping at him. He walked down the corridor with his friends - something he’d done a hundred times before - and felt so far away from the person he’d been in December. Albus looked at him and understood, tightening his arm around Scorpius’ back.

“I know,” he muttered, and it was enough for Scorpius to know that he wasn’t alone.

The sight of their dorm brought Scorpius an intense rush of familiarity. Pucey and Farley deposited their bags on the floor between their beds, and Albus and Scorpius sat down on the edge of Scorpius’ bed, while their four companions settled on windowsills and trunks around them, looking on expectantly.

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Farley said after a moment of silence.

“Yeah, we don’t want to pressure you.”

“Is that why you’re all staring?” Scorpius asked. Maggie looked away, ashamed.

“We were worried sick,” she told him. “When you didn’t show up... and that crater.”

“I’m sorry I worried you all,” Scorpius said. “Really. I know it put a damper on everyone’s Christmas.”

“Mate, we’re just glad the Ministry found you,” Flint said.

“Is that what they’re saying? That the Ministry found me?” Scorpius asked, resentful.

“Well, they haven’t said much,” Farley clarified. “Just that you were found in some old wizarding home in the middle of nowhere that wound up burned to the ground.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Albus said. “That’s really all they said?”

“I think so,” Maggie said. “And that it was your aunt who was arrested? Ainsley’s mum?”

Scorpius nodded solemnly, and Albus watched him closely, ready to put a stop to the conversation if it was too much.

But Scorpius knew their friends had been worried, and so he told them what he could with as much honesty as he could muster - about his out-of-control powers and hand Daphne’s extremism and compatriots. He told them about the dungeon and the cuffs, and when he told them about the Cruciatus Curse, he reached out for Albus’ waiting hand and gripped it tight.

“They found me just before New Year’s Eve,” Scorpius told them. “And I heard my dad’s voice, and Albus and Harry were dueling Daphne and Selwyn -”

“You dueled them?” Farley asked, surprised. “With your dad?”

“Not successfully,” Albus said, patting his sore leg. “She caught me with a curse.”

“Selwyn tried to kill him,” Scorpius said. He looked at Albus. “Give yourself some credit.”

Albus absently felt over the amulet beneath his shirt. He hadn’t taken it off the entire time, and still wasn’t sure whether or not he really deserved the credit. He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to question how they’d both survived.

Albus took over, telling them about the fire and ice and how relieved he and Draco and Harry had been to find Scorpius alive.

“So it was you who burned the mansion down?” Farley asked.

“That’s pretty intense,” said Pucey.

“Are you okay?” Maggie asked.

“Clean bill of health,” Scorpius told her. “Just need to eat and sleep.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Scorpius sighed. “I know it’s not what you meant, but it’s the best answer I can give you right now.”

“What about you?” Farley asked. “Not that it matters in the grand scheme of things, but -”

“We’ll see in a couple days, won’t we?” Albus said. “I’m going to try to play. I won’t know if I can fly until I give it a shot, but I’ve been trying to put it off. See if it gets better.”

Albus ignored Scorpius’ sideways glance. Scorpius knew Albus’ leg hadn’t improved for days, and had the sinking feeling that it simply wasn’t going to.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, mate,” said Pucey.

“You look exhausted,” Maggie said, ever-observant. “Are you sure you’re ready to be back?”

“I’ll be fine,” Scorpius assured her. “I’m just going to take it a little slow, I think.”

“Well, let us know if there’s anything we can do,” said Farley.

“Yeah. We’re right here. Obviously,” said Flint, gesturing to their beds.

“Thanks, guys,” said Scorpius. Farley looked at the clock beside Albus’ bed.

“Early morning tomorrow,” he said regretfully, and everyone agreed that it was time for bed. Maggie hugged Scorpius and Albus one more time and gave Flint a quick kiss before retreating to the girl’s dormitory.

It was more quiet than normal as the boys changed for the evening, and Scorpius helped steady Albus as he put on his warmest pajamas.

“This place gets so frigid in the winter,” Scorpius said. “I don’t think I’ve ever minded it this much.”

“Yeah, it’s not helping,” said Albus, testing his leg again and cringing. Scorpius looked at his bed. He’d felt the physical distance between them before. Out of respect for their roommates, they’d never snuck into each other’s beds. The last thing they needed was to make the living situation unnecessarily complicated, but now, the space between his bed and Albus’ seemed like a particularly deep valley, and he didn’t want to be on the other side of it.

Albus watched his eyes dart between their beds.

“Do you want me to sleep in your bed?” he asked quietly. Scorpius nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

Albus was having none of the uncertainty. When Scorpius pulled down the covers of his bed, Albus limped to the other side and started to climb in, and both sincerely hoped their roommates would have the dignity to keep their silence.

“Oh, come on,” said Farley. “We talked about -”

Scorpius held up a hand to silence him. His patience had worn thin.

“Rules be damned,” Scorpius said firmly. “I’ve been beaten, tortured, and starved and if sleeping next to my boyfriend helps me get through the night then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Albus smirked and looked over his shoulder. Farley looked surprised that Scorpius had raised his voice. Flint and Pucey watched with interest.

“Also, he can crush your skull with his mind now,” Albus added. “So I’d be careful.”

Scorpius settled into bed and pulled the hangings around them with a flick of his wrist. Albus laid down facing him and Scorpius warmed his hand, running it over Albus’ side.

“Healer’s orders,” Scorpius said. Albus nodded and began the questions.

“Where are you going to bed?”

“My bed in the Slytherin dorm,” Scorpius answered quietly.

“Who’s here with you?”

“You are. And our roommates.”

“And where are you going to wake up?”

“My bed in the Slytherin dorm. With you.”

“And what are we going to do tomorrow?”

“Classes.”

Albus continued as Scorpius eased the soreness, the movements of his hands getting slow and languid as he dozed off, and after a few minutes, Albus pulled the comforter up around Scorpius’ shoulders and closed his eyes, hoping they’d both sleep through the night.

* * *

 

Farley, Flint and Pucey each lay in their beds, staring at the dark ceiling as Albus and Scorpius spoke to each other quietly, absorbed in what sounded like a new ritual - the kind that shouldn’t be questioned.

Pucey thought about his parents - how they’d had a quiet holiday at home, and felt guilty that he’d had such an idyllic break while his roommates had suffered. He felt guilty for each day he’d spent lounging about and racing his sister through the countryside on their new brooms, and for drinking too much on New Year’s Eve, realizing for the first time that he’d been indulging while his friend had been nearly dead.

Farley listened as Albus had Scorpius run through his schedule and thought of his father who still had nightmares about the Battle of Hogwarts from time to time - nightmares that would wake him loudly and violently when Farley was young. He thought of all the ways he’d heard his mother comfort his father through the thin walls of his childhood home, and all the times she’d tell him that things would seem brighter in the morning, and he closed his eyes tight, wishing he couldn’t hear them.

Flint stared at the ceiling, wondering how he’d been lucky enough that his family, who’d been far from perfect and had its own checkered past, had escaped largely unscathed. Why had he and his family been allowed to lead normal lives when Albus and Scorpius - who, while imperfect, were two of the most loyal men Flint had met - were left to count tomorrow’s smaller blessings just to get through the night? Why had he and his family been allowed to live such normal lives?

Farley, Flint and Pucey each knew the others were awake, but lay in reflective silence until Albus and Scorpius’ voices faded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	30. Grounded

Albus put it off as long as he could. He’d skipped the optional practices and spent the entire day walking lightly, relying heavily on his cane, and letting Scorpius keep his warm hands on his sore leg under their tables and desks - as if he wasn’t already distracted enough.

When he walked onto the pitch where the rest of the team was waiting, he was acutely aware of their eyes on him, watching his every step. He used his broom for support, trying not to let his face show anything akin to pain. He checked the stands and saw a single spectator with their arms folded disapprovingly.

“I cannot watch you fall off your broom again, Albus,” Scorpius had hissed at him as they walked down to the pitch. “Don’t you dare put me through that again. I have nightmares enough as it is.”

Albus waved at him. Scorpius didn’t wave back.

The team began talking about the plays they’d practice and Albus leaned on his broom next to Maggie.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said.

“Yes, I do.”

Flint went over a list of things they needed to improve upon to win their next two matches against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and Albus looked across the field to the spot where they’d celebrated their victory over Gryffindor. The last time he’d been in the arena was an hour before Scorpius had been abducted, and when he looked up into the stands, it dawned on him that it was nearly the last time Scorpius had seen him.

 _Don’t you dare put me through that again_.

Flint wrapped up his motivational speech (which Albus hadn’t found particularly motivating), and released the bludgers before tossing the quaffle to Maggie.

“I’m sending out the practice Snitch,” Flint said. “Take it easy.”

Albus nodded and watched as the rest of the team took off. Farley stayed low and watched the ground expectantly.

 _One foot on either side of the broom_ , Albus thought.  _Kick off. That’s all I need to do. Once I’m in the air, it will be fine._

Getting airborne cost him dearly, but he managed it, and for a moment Albus was relieved. He felt the pressure come off of his joints as he rose, and thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d be okay.

Albus flew around for a few minutes, getting his bearings, feeling the wind in his hair as the rose higher, watching the team start racing back and forth across the pitch. They were laughing, but someone was missing.

Albus looked around and found Farley nearby.

“You must have pulled the short straw to get Albus-duty,” Albus called with a grin. He gripped the broom handle tightly, unable to trust his own balance.

“Just making sure you’re okay,” Farley said, stopping a few meters from him.

“I’ll be fine,” Albus said. “Flint sent up the slow Snitch for me.”

“Just be careful,” Farley said.

“Go on. Those bludgers aren’t going to hit themselves.”

Farley reluctantly flew down to the rest of the team.

Albus looked down at the stands. Even if he hadn’t been alone, Scorpius was easy enough to spot. His hair was terribly bright in the setting sun. He was about to call down to him - to tell him that he was worried for nothing - when he saw a glint of gold out of the corner of his eye.

Albus raced after it, and the moment he started to pick up some real speed, he instinctively dug his heels into the metal foot grips. He sped down towards the grass, and pain shot from his ankle through his side. He tried to ignore it - to grit his teeth and get through it - but when he turned to level out toward the ground his balance came apart and he rolled onto the ground a meter below, coming to a rest in the cold, wet grass.

Albus lay in the turf in the moments between his landing and the team noticing what had happened. He stared at the sky - blue and full of white, puffy clouds - the kind he hadn’t seen since the last snowstorm, and knew deep in his bones that he was never going to play again.

“Albus!”

Scorpius reached him as the rest of the team hit the ground. Albus sat up, and looked at his broom still in his hand and sighed. He let Scorpius help him to his feet and leaned on him heavily as he found his balance.

“I quit,” Albus told Flint when he got close enough. Scorpius looked down at him.

“There’s got to be a way -”

“No,” Albus said, shaking his head. “I can’t fly like this. I’m going to get hurt, or I’m going to hurt someone else. Either way, we lose the game.”

Flint, Farley, Maggie and their teammates all looked at him with varying degrees of disappointment, but Flint, as team captain, was the most distraught.

“We don’t have an alternate seeker.”

“You’re better off letting Maggie play seeker. She’s fast enough at least.” Albus recommended. “You’ll have more luck finding another chaser.

“We’d be better off with you.”

“I can’t fly, Flint,” Albus said. “I had to try, but it’s not going to work.”

“This is a disaster,” said Harper Gilmore, a chaser. She shook her head at Albus. “We’re never going to win the cup if we’re training new players.”

“There are more important things than winning the cup,” Albus said.

Harper opened her mouth to protest, but Flint cut her off, asking if anyone knew who they’d almost picked for the team during tryouts in the fall. Albus listened as they argued, naming names of students as young as thirteen.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Maggie said to Albus.

“If it tickled I’d still be in the air laughing,” Albus said.

“You should head back in,” Flint said. “I’ll let you know what happens out here. See if you can help.”

Albus looked at his teammates one by one. Their concerned, disappointed faces should have broken him a thousand times over, but they didn’t. He felt Scorpius’ hand on his back, tracing the embroidered letters of his surname, and somehow it wasn’t so disappointing.

“I’m sorry,” Albus apologized. “Truly.”

“It’s not your fault, mate,” Farley said.

Harper looked like she had a different opinion, but kept her mouth shut.

Albus turned to Scorpius who gave him a sad smile.

“Come on. Let’s go get dinner.”

Scorpius took Albus’ broom and handed him back his cane, and together, they walked from the pitch at a slow, calculated pace.

* * *

 

Albus was sullen throughout dinner, and Scorpius knew better than to disturb him. He knew that distant look - the way he speared his food with his fork without looking at it and ate slowly, staring straight ahead, barely blinking. He’d interrupted this reverie before, and it only made Albus more irritable in the end.

So he sat next to Albus, passing the pumpkin juice before he could ask, and holding his hand beneath the table, trying desperately to ignore the broomstick that lay along the bench at his side, and when he was done eating and Albus was still taking his time, he pulled a book from his bag and began reading to distract himself from the guilt and empathetic sadness he’d been feeling since Albus had first been handed his cane.

When at long last Albus spoke, it took Scorpius a moment to register what he’d said.

“It’s just as well,” he said quietly, his voice low. “I need to devote more time to studying for my N.E.W.T.s anyway if I still want to be a magizoologist.”

Scorpius said nothing and gave his hand a small squeeze.

“Besides,” Albus began again, his voice brightening, “we haven’t read anything lately, and I was thinking maybe we could start  _Lord of the Rings_.”

“ _Lord of the Rings?”_

Albus shrugged. “I saw it in your library the other day. Thought it might be interesting. Muggle’s perception of magic and all that.”

Scorpius looked back at him and saw that he didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either.

“You can talk to me about it,” Scorpius said.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” said Albus. “I had to quit the team. It’s not like Quidditch was my future anyway. I’m not that good.”

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius said. “If I’d been two seconds faster -”

“You didn’t curse me,” Albus said firmly. “It wasn’t your fault. And our dads couldn’t have taken on all four of them alone - if I hadn’t been there, they would have been killed and you’d probably be dead or trying to take over the Ministry right now.”

Scorpius opened his mouth to protest, but he knew Albus was right. He couldn’t have held out forever.

“So it’s worth it,” Albus said with a crooked smile. “It’s completely worth it if it got you out of there.”

“I’m still really sorry this happened to you,” Scorpius said. “It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” said Albus. “But life hasn’t exactly been fair to either of us, has it? Son of Voldemort and the Slytherin Squib?”

“They can’t really say that about you anymore, can they?”

“Well, no,” said Albus. “I suppose not. But you setting fires and knocking Gryffindors around didn’t help your case.”

“It’s fine,” said Scorpius. “I’ve learned to ignore the looks and the jeers, and no one is really messing with me now.”

“See?” said Albus. “Things are getting better already.”

* * *

 

Scorpius woke in the middle of the night. He’d taken precautions - put a muffling charm around his bed so he wouldn’t wake the others, and gone through Albus’ mantra while falling asleep - but most nights it wasn’t enough. Thus far, he’d only slept through the night once at the Potter’s house.

He rolled over carefully, peeling Albus’ arm from around his waist, and pulled back the hangings around his bed just enough to check the clock.

Five in the morning, he’d decided, didn’t look good on anybody, but he’d seen it more in the last few weeks than he ever had in his life.

“Scorp?” Albus moaned, rubbing his eyes and turning onto his back. “Is it morning?”

“No,” Scorpius said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Why are you up?” Albus asked, blinking furiously and looking up at him. He was adorable like this, Scorpius had realized. The only good thing about waking up so much in the night was sleepy-Albus with his messy hair and child-like confusion.

“Just a nightmare.”

Albus sat up beside him, shaking his head which did nothing to solve the mess his hair had become.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Scorpius didn’t. It had been a combination of watching Albus fall off his broom and watching him fly backwards when Daphne cursed him. Clearly, the definitive end to Albus’ Quidditch career had an effect.

“Nothing new,” Scorpius said. He was exhausted, and he knew Albus was too. Half the time he couldn’t help waking Albus up too. He’d tried to convince Albus that he could sleep own - that there was no reason for both of them to be so tired - but Albus simply wouldn’t have it.

“What can I do?” Albus asked, rubbing his leg absently. Scorpius sighed and sat up too.

“Is it hurting?”

“A bit,” said Albus. “It’s not sharp like it used to be unless I do something stupid, like try to fly.”

Scorpius rubbed his hands together, summoning some energy to heat them. Simple things like moving items and changing temperatures didn’t cost him anymore, and he was grateful, since the only thing he could do for Albus was be a mobile, human heating pad.

He placed both palms against Albus’ leg and started pressing into the tense muscles - the ones that never really relaxed anymore, and Albus leaned back against the headboard.

“What do you think it will be like after we graduate?” Albus asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if we go get a flat in London,” he continued. “And if we’re both working.”

“I haven’t thought much about it,” Scorpius admitted.

“D’you still want to?” Albus asked through a yawn. Scorpius moved his hands up to Albus’ side and Albus cringed.

“Of course,” said Scorpius. “I said I did.”

“I mean, you could always stay at the Malfoy Manor,” Albus said. “Where you’ve got all that space and your dad...”

“Are you trying to talk me out of living with you?” Scorpius asked.

“I didn’t know if you thought about it,” Albus said. “It won’t be as comfortable as the manor.”

“I know,” said Scorpius. “Just make sure I have a couple bookshelves and a desk. That’s all I care about.”

“And you’d have to take care of your crippled boyfriend,” Albus said.

“You’re not crippled,” Scorpius said, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got a limp. And you still might improve slowly.”

“Still,” Albus said. “I might not be able to do some things.”

“Al, do you really think I’d back out because you got a limp saving my life?”

“Well, no -”

“Okay, then,” Scorpius said, digging his hands into the sorest part around Albus’ left hip. Albus cringed again and closed his eyes.

“If this didn’t hurt like hell it would be very distracting,” Albus said. After a moment, he relaxed and looked up at Scorpius.

“You’re really cute when you concentrate,” Albus said. Scorpius looked at him and saw that he had the same sloppy smile he wore when he had too much to drink.

“You’re really cute when you’re sleepy,” Scorpius said. “Which is all the time recently, thanks to me.”

“It’s fine,” Albus assured him. He took Scorpius’ hand from his side and held it, and Scorpius released the heat, letting it dissipate. “Really, it is.”

For the first time, as Albus looked up at him in the dark, Scorpius believed him.

“You’ve changed,” Scorpius told him.

“In a good way?” Albus asked.

“It’s like you grew ten years in those fifteen days,” Scorpius said quietly. “I can’t explain it.”

“I think my perspective changed,” Albus said. “I don’t know that I thought much about the future before. I didn’t have to. And then I had all the possibilities for everything I wanted just... taken away.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Albus said. “And I realized that everything I want to do in life, I want to do it with you.”

A small smile played at the edges of Scorpius’ lips and he nodded.

“I want that too,” he said. “And I think that’s what happened to me too. Only I didn’t know how to put it into words.”

“Rare stroke of eloquence,” Albus said with a tired grin. “It happens.”

Scorpius laughed quietly and stifled a yawn, letting Albus draw him back down into bed. He lay his head against Albus’ shoulder and wrapped his arms around Albus’ waist.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Albus confirmed.

“Can we sleep in?”

“I already turned the alarm off,” Albus said, playing with a lock of Scorpius’ hair.

Scorpius nodded, drifting off again against his will.

“Hey Scorp?” Albus whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Where are you going to wake up?”

“Probably laying on you again,” Scorpius said with a smile. “Like every other morning this week.”

* * *

 

Scorpius was glad Saturday morning breakfast ran late because he and Albus were rushing into the Great Hall well after ten o’clock. Around Scorpius’ shoulder was a bag holding a blanket and a stack of notes they both needed to review. It was cold, but the sun was out, and that meant it was an Astronomy Tower kind of day.

“Need coffee,” said Albus tiredly.

“How can I be so sleepy when we slept so late?”

“I have no idea,” said Albus. “Ask me again when I’ve had coffee.”

They sat down at their usual spot in the hall, and began serving themselves, ignoring the usual awkward glances and whispers-behind-hands. After seven years, they’d learned to block those things out.

As Scorpius was grabbing a pastry, two waiting owls swooped down from their perch along the wall and landed on the Slytherin table in front of them - one with a letter addressed to Albus, and the other for Scorpius.

Scorpius sighed and untied the missive, giving the owl a thankful pat on the head, though he was anything but thankful. He knew what this letter held.

“What’s this?” Albus asked, his mouth full. “This isn’t mum’s handwriting.”

“No, it’s not,” said Scorpius, opening his letter with a butter knife and breaking the Ministry of Magic seal on the back.

“Ministry?”

“It’s a summons,” said Scorpius. He opened the letter.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_Your presence and testimony is requested at the joint trial of Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Angus Selwyn, and Hugh Travers._

_The trial will be held on February 1. Please contact the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, if you require transportation._

_Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_Chief Warlock_

Scorpius folded his letter neatly and placed it back in its envelope, while Albus ripped his in half and threw it on the table.

“Lovely,” said Albus. “More of this.”

“We’ll wind up in the  _Prophet_ again, that’s for sure.”

“For once it would be great if we wound up in the paper for something we did, not just because we wound up with our surnames.”

“I did once,” said Scorpius, trying to find some brightness. “I won an amateur magical history trivia competition when I was ten.”

Albus stared at him. “Of course you did.”

“It’ll be the whole Wizengamot,” Scorpius said. He took a sip of his coffee. “Biggest trial of the year and I’m going to be stuck in the middle of it.”

Albus slid closer to him on the bench and put his hand on Scorpius’ knee.

“If you want, after this you’ll never have to talk about it again,” Albus said. Scorpius rolled back the long sleeves of his shirt, exposing the rough scars around his wrists.

“It’s not going away, Al,” Scorpius said. “For either of us.”

Albus knew this. Sometimes, when he let his mind wander, he still saw Scorpius’ face - dirty, drawn and covered in blood. Sometimes he still heard Scorpius’ voice whimpering his name when he woke up in front of the fire at the Malfoy manor, and he wondered if he’d always be haunted too.

“I don’t think I have a right to have nightmares,” Albus said. “Or to have this...  _thing_ , hanging over me.”

“It happened to both of us, Al,” Scorpius said. Albus leaned on his shoulder where he rested his head, and Scorpius draped an arm around his neck.

Silence fell over both of them and Scorpius picked at his toast until, after a while, Albus cleared his throat.

“So without Quidditch, I have a lot more time,” he began.

“And?”

“About that weekend in the Room of Requirement...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how many people are still reading this, and at this point I'm too afraid to ask.
> 
> Hope you're having a lovely day (and that maybe autumn is beginning for you because it certainly isn't here)!
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP


	31. Trial

White shirt. Vest. Tie. Robes. Slacks. Shoes.

Everything was laid out, but Scorpius couldn’t bear to put them on. He just sat on his trunk, eyeing his clothes spitefully and clutching his mug of hot cocoa as if drinking it slower would somehow delay the moment they had to leave.

Flint, Farley and Pucey were all milling about, getting ready for the long day of classes ahead, picking up books and notes - all the things that usually irritated Scorpius to do. Today, though, he wished he were on his way to Charms.

Albus walked over to him, his shirt still open, putting on his belt. Albus never wore a belt unless it was with his uniform.

“Are you going to get dressed? Or are you going in your pajamas?”

“I’ll get dressed in a minute,” Scorpius said.

Albus hooked his thumbs on the pockets of his trousers and looked down at him. Scorpius stared at him - open shirt, combed hair, tie undone around his neck. There were suddenly many more things he’d rather be doing than getting ready to testify before the Wizengamot.

“You’ve got to get dressed, Scorp,” Albus said. “We said we’d meet Ainsley at McGonagall’s office.”

“I know what we said,” Scorpius mumbled. “That doesn’t mean I want to do it.”

“You’ve got hot chocolate on your face,” Albus said, buttoning his shirt. Scorpius was disappointed.

“I’m aware.”

Albus took Scorpius’ mug from his hands and set it aside.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing for Scorpius to stand, which he did with the utmost reluctance.

“Al -”

“Quiet,” Albus said gently, holding out Scorpius’ grey trousers. Scorpius sighed and shed his pajamas and began getting dressed. It felt like starting a slow march off a cliff.

Albus held out Scorpius’ shirt and helped him into it before picking up Scorpius’ favorite blue tie, winding it into his collar and swatting Scorpius’ hand away when he tried to take over.

“It’s one day,” Albus said. “It’s going to be a long day, but it’s one day.”

“I know,” said Scorpius, resigned.

“And we’re going to see your dad. You love seeing your dad.”

“I do.”

“And after the trial is over, we’ll probably go out for dinner with my parents or something. And you know they’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“I know, but...” Scorpius trailed off as Albus slid the Windsor knot into place, buttoning the top button of Scorpius’ shirt for him.

“But what?” Albus asked. He placed his hands on Scorpius’ forearms so he couldn’t avoid eye contact or the question. Scorpius suddenly understood why Mr. Potter was so good at his job - those bright green eyes were very difficult to ignore or lie to.

“What if they don’t put her away?” Scorpius asked, his voice quiet. Albus was staring him down, and he had to look away.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, yes. People get out on technicalities all the time -”

“Scorp, if they don’t put her in Azkaban, I can promise you that you’ll have nothing to worry about. You’re in control of your powers now and can defend yourself with or without a wand.”

“I guess so -”

“Also, your dad and I will kill her with our bare hands. In fact, my mum would probably help. So really you shouldn’t be concerned.”

The way Albus was looking at him, Scorpius was pretty sure he wasn’t exaggerating. Still, he was nervous for a hundred different reasons.

“By tonight we’ll be at your home, in front of the fire, and your dad will give you as much brandy as you can drink. We don’t have to be back here until tomorrow afternoon,” Albus reminded him, and Scorpius nodded, letting Albus help him into his vest and robes.

* * *

 

Professor McGonagall had given Scorpius a cup of tea while they waited for Ainsley. This was the first time he’d seen her in more than passing since December, and he was grateful to be back in her office, even if it was only for a moment.

“I’m glad to see you’re not having control issues anymore,” McGonagall told him. “At the very least, you’ve gained that.”

“Yes,” said Scorpius. “At the very least.”

She looked at him piteously. He was tired of being pitied but new there was much more of it on the way.

“Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall asked quietly. He glanced at Albus who was pacing, staring up at the currently-unmoving portraits of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Two hired aurors (or mercenaries - Scorpius hadn’t asked) had followed them into McGonagall’s office when they left the Slytherin common room, and stayed near the door, silent but imposing. Scorpius glanced at back at them - their stoic, unmoving faces unnerving him as they did daily - before looking back to McGonagall.

“I’ll be fine, professor. But I have been wanting to thank you. I think... I think what you taught me... before...”

Scorpius spoke slowly, choosing his words as carefully as he could.

“I think it may have saved my life.”

McGonagall’s expression softened as Ainsley opened the door and entered, muttering apologies.

“I’m glad I could help, Malfoy,” McGonagall said quietly as Albus tore his eyes from Severus Snape’s unmoving portrait to greet Ainsley.

Scorpius stood up and McGonagall took his mug from him and gave him a small pat on the shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” she assured him.

Anxiety was written all over Ainsley’s face when Scorpius looked at her. She wore her glasses and a proper set of robes over a yellow cardigan, and he wondered if it was an act of defiance - one last reminder to her mother that her only child was a Hufflepuff.

McGonagall regarded them all as they stood before the fireplace.

“It’s terrible that the three of you must do this,” she said. “I do wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Thank you, professor,” Ainsley said from between Albus and Scorpius. McGonagall handed a small cup of Floo powder to Albus.

“Shall we?” he asked. Scorpius nodded and together, they stepped into the flames.

* * *

 

Draco Malfoy was exactly where he said he’d be - standing in front of the Ministry’s central fountain. He was pacing, hands folded behind his back, pointedly ignoring the stares of Ministry workers passing by on their way to meetings and their offices.

As they approached, Scorpius was surprised to see Dania sitting on the edge of the fountain nearby, watching him pace. She met Scorpius’ eyes and grabbed Draco’s sleeve as he passed her again and pointed to Scorpius, Albus, and Ainsley approaching.

They were too far away to hear in the echoes of the atrium, but Scorpius saw his father’s mouth form his name and he smiled just a bit, quickening his pace and rushing to hug him.

Draco embraced Scorpius and held onto him for an extra beat.

“It’s good to see you,” Draco said as he released Scorpius. He shook Albus’ hand, grasping his shoulder for an instant, and embraced Ainsley, who stayed close to his side as Dania stepped to his shoulder, smiling half-heartedly at Scorpius and Albus.

Scorpius smiled in spite of himself. If Dania was here, that meant things were going well.

“It’s good to see you both, even given the circumstances,” Dania said. She looked to Scorpius. “You look much better than when I last saw you.”

“Thanks,” said Scorpius. “Albus has been taking good care of me.”

“I was sorry to hear about the Quidditch team,” Draco said. Dania’s eyes flickered to Albus’ cane.

“It’s okay,” said Albus dismissively. Scorpius had noticed how skilled he’d gotten at passing off disappointment, and it hurt him deeply.

Draco looked to his watch, tense.

“We should get going. Harry is going to meet us down there.”

Scorpius walked at his father’s side as they crossed the atrium to the elevators.

“Are things going well with Dania?” he asked, looking over his shoulder to make sure she was well out of earshot.

Draco gave him a small reserved smile. “Well enough.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing,” Scorpius said. “Do you see each other a lot?”

“Most days,” Draco said.

“I’m glad,” Scorpius told him. “Really, I am.”

He thought of his mother, pale and smiling at him as she lay in bed a few days before her death, making them promise to be happy - whatever that meant. Scorpius hadn’t understood what that would mean for his father then, but he did now.

The elevator ride felt longer than it was to Albus, who remembered making this same trip before with Draco Malfoy. He’d been in dirty Quidditch robes then. He reached for Scorpius’ hand and held it tight until the doors opened.

The hallway to the Wizengamot chamber was long, and as they turned and walked into the room, Albus remembered Hermione hugging him, telling him everything would be okay.

Neither Scorpius or Albus had been in the Wizengamot chamber before, but Scorpius found it breathtaking in its darkness. The black benches rose along the sides of the rounded room like a stadium, and ahead of them stood the large, raised podium where the Chief Warlock would preside, and to either side were the members of the Wizengamot milling about, talking to one another.

Scorpius spotted Hermione ahead at the center of the room, talking with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry and Ron were nearby, and the room was beginning to fall into order as nine o’clock neared.

Harry spotted Albus and met them in the middle.

“They’re about to begin,” Harry said. He looked at all of their faces, one at a time. “Are you ready?”

“I want to get it over with,” said Scorpius.

Behind Harry’s back was a disturbance, and they looked to see the source. The prisoners, silenced and bound with magic, had been brought in, locked in an iron cage that was lowered onto a podium above the highest seats by several wizards in black.

Scorpius adjusted his glasses and looked at Daphne. She was staring down at him, screaming within the cage, but no sound escaped the bars. She was yelling wildly, her eyes darting around, and Scorpius wondered if she’d gone mad.

Judging by the annoyed look on Pansy Parkinson’s face, however, they could hear each other.

Selwyn and Tarvers looked miserable, and were silent. They were seated with their arms restrained behind their backs, and Scorpius hoped spitefully that their shoulders were as sore as his had been.

Beside him, he heard a small, strangled sound, and turned to see that Ainsley had buried her face in Draco’s shoulder. He placed a hand on her back and leaned in to speak to her quietly.

“This is going to be over soon,” Scorpius said.

“You’ll always have a home with Scorpius and I,” Draco said. Scorpius looked at his father as he kept an arm around Ainsley. The concern on his face was genuine, and he knew that Astoria would be grateful that he’d taken such care for her niece despite Daphne’s actions.

Ainsley sniffed and Scorpius saw that she’d started crying. He handed her his handkerchief and she wiped away the wetness under her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Ainsley said.

“Don’t be,” said Scorpius. “Your whole family has been torn apart. You should be upset.”

Ainsley looked up at the cage and Scorpius followed Draco’s eyes to where Pansy sat in irksome silence.

“She doesn’t deserve Azkaban,” Scorpius murmured to Draco. “Pansy tried, at least... she regretted it.”

“We’ll see what the Wizengamot decides,” Draco said. “Just tell the truth. It’s out of our hands.”

Scorpius looked up at her again and hoped that what he’d done was enough.

Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice boomed around the room, silencing its occupants.

“Let us begin,” said Shacklebolt, now standing at the center of the room. Albus and Scorpius followed Harry, Draco, and Ainsley to their place in the first row of seats, directed by one of the Ministry attendants.

“Do you have to do this often?” Albus asked Harry.

“I’m in here a few times a month,” said Harry. “For various cases. Listen, Scorpius -”

Harry was cut off by Shacklebolt’s booming voice asking everyone to take their seats. He sighed, clearly irritated.

Albus sat down on the bench beside Scorpius, who was looking somewhat shell-shocked, staring straight ahead at the marble floor. He sat as close as he could and slipped his hand into Scorpius’, acutely aware of the flashes coming from the press gallery.

“You’re not alone,” whispered Albus.

Scorpius nodded, his eyes unblinking.

“I know.”

* * *

 

Harry was called upon first and he offered the facts of the case - that Daphne Greengrass, in association with Pansy Parkinson, Angus Selwyn, and Hugh Travers had kidnapped Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy and taken him to the ancestral home of the Greengrass family in Annesley, where he was held captive, tortured, beaten and starved for fifteen days.

He stated the facts of the search, listing Draco Malfoy’s knowledge of the pureblood families as an asset, and when Shacklebolt, who Scorpius decided had one of the most intense voices he’d ever heard, questioned Albus’ involvement, Harry looked over his shoulder at his son.

“Had anyone else been handling the investigation, or been Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Albus Potter would have still been involved in the investigation.”

“And why is that?”

“Frankly, Kingsley,” Harry began, showing familiarity as he’d markedly avoided thus far, “he didn’t give me much of a choice in the matter.”

Scorpius thought he saw a smile play on Shackleblolt’s lips, but he was too far away to tell for sure.

“The Wizengamot heard testimony from the accused in a closed session,” Shacklebolt said, which elicited loud protests from the press gallery. He waited patiently for their voices to die down. “We’ll hear testimony from the witnesses and those involved before rendering judgment. Are there any objections?”

A resounding “nay” was heard from the Wizengamot members.

Shacklebolt called upon Ainsley first, which Scorpius assumed was out of mercy. Though there were still tears streaming down her face, Ainsley’s face had hardened and she looked as if she were in extreme pain but couldn’t show it, keeping her eyes focused and straight ahead. She rose and took her place in the center of the room, seated in the high-backed chair on the dais.

“You are Ainsley Greengrass, correct?” Shacklebolt said.

“Yes, sir.”

Scorpius was proud of how strong her voice sounded, ringing around the room, as she looked up at the Chief Warlock.

“And your mother is Daphne Greengrass, yes?”

“If you mean that she gave birth to me, then yes. Daphne Greengrass is my mother.”

Scorpius watched Ainsley closely from between Draco and Albus, and when Ainsley recounted the events of Scorpius’ abduction, Draco hung his head. Scorpius slipped his hand into his father’s, watching his cousin tell what she’d seen.

“And Mr. Malfoy’s captors did no physical harm to you?” Shacklebolt asked.

“No,” said Ainsley. “They called me a blood traitor, but told me it wasn’t yet time for my ‘lesson.’”

“During the Christmas holiday when you were home with your mother - was she acting strangely.”

“We barely speak,” Ainsley said. “We barely spoke before that, so if she was acting strangely, I didn’t notice. I was kept at home most of the holiday, and she was out, but that wasn’t too unusual. I never thought she’d do something this insane.”

“Thank you for your testimony,” Shacklebolt said. “The hearing on your guardianship will be held in a few days.”

Ainsley nodded politely and took a step down from the dais, but not until she shot a withering glare at her mother, who sneered.

“Let’s keep this telling somewhat chronological,” said Shacklebolt, running his finger over a piece of parchment in his hand. “Will Draco Malfoy please come forward?”

Draco gave Scorpius’ hand a tight squeeze, his face set and expressionless, and he stepped down toward the center floor. Harry, who had remained stationed near one of the waist-high gates, opened it for him, and muttered something to Draco as he passed. Draco nodded, and took his place at the center of the room, giving Ainsley’s shoulder an encouraging pat as he passed her.

Shacklebolt confirmed Draco’s identity for the record, and began questioning, asking about the investigation and his role. Ainsley sat down beside Scorpius, and he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close.

“You did great,” he whispered to her.

She said nothing and rested her head against his shoulder. Scorpius watched his father in profile as he recounted the investigation day-by-day in extreme detail for nearly thirty minutes, lauding the Department of Magical Law Enforcement’s efforts, and pressing the point that Pansy Parkinson had told him to search the ancestral homes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

“And you had no inclination that Daphne Greengrass would harm your son?”

“Daphne always disapproved of how Astoria and I chose to raise Scorpius,” Draco said, his voice measured and calm - the kind of calm Scorpius remembered from his childhood when Draco scolded him for some immature wrongdoing.

“I never expected, however, that she would harm her late sister’s only child,” said Draco. “Despite their differences, I know my wife loved her sister very much, though it’s clear the sentiment has not been reciprocated.”

From within the cage, Daphne yelled. Her co-captors cringed at the noise, but Scorpius could only guess what she had said.

“Had I thought Daphne would harm her nephew to this extent, I would have volunteered that information,” Draco said.

“I imagine you would have,” Shacklebolt conceded. “Tell me about the night Scorpius was found. I have the report from Mr. Potter’s perspective, but I’d like to hear yours.”

Draco took a deep breath to calm himself, his first real display of emotion, and began telling of December 30th. He explained how Albus found the record for the Gringras’ first establishment in Britain, and how they’d arrived to find Daphne and her accomplices in the house under the guise of restoring the mansion.

“We were about to leave,” Draco explained, “when Albus told me he was certain Scorpius was there.”

“And how did the young Mr. Potter know your son was present?”

Draco opened his mouth as if he were going to explain, but thought better of it.

“With all due respect,” Draco said, “it may be best if Albus were to explain that part himself.”

When Draco began telling of his conversation with Pansy, Scorpius saw her turn her face away as if she couldn’t watch.

“Travers stunned her. When she fell back she hit her head. He and I dueled, and I petrified him, though he was very intent upon killing me, and once he was disabled, I found the door to the dungeon. I had to blast it open, but that’s -”

Draco’s voice gave out suddenly, and Scorpius knew why. He watched as his father looked down for a moment, then looked over his shoulder to where he sat. Scorpius nodded.

“And that’s where I found my son. I used the key Pansy had given me to unlock him.”

“What happened next, Mr. Malfoy?”

“We heard Albus yell - it echoed. We ran upstairs where the Potters were dueling Selwyn and Greengrass, just as Albus was injured.”

“Can you tell me about what followed?”

Draco told Selwyn about the fire and how Scorpius used the pond water to disable his captors before collapsing.

“And that’s all there is,” Draco said.

“Forgive me, Mr. Malfoy,” Shacklebolt began, removing his spectacles and leaning upon the podium to get a better look at Draco. “I must ask you to describe the state in which you found your son.”

Scorpius saw Harry shift his weight from foot to foot anxiously, folding his arms and watching Shacklebolt closely, clearly irritated.

Draco described the dungeon and the dirt and blood he’d found Scorpius covered in. He described the burns and blisters and bruises on his wrists and arms, and the smaller, lacerations across his body.

“Thank you,” Shacklebolt said with sincerity. “That concludes our questions. Do you have anything else you’d like to add?”

Draco stood from his seat as if to leave, but took only one small step before pausing and looking up to Daphne for a brief moment. He looked down to the Wizengamot, seated in silence.

“You all know who my father was, whether or not you ever met him in person,” Draco said. “And you all know he was a particular type of bastard. But even Lucius Malfoy, who gave his home and his family over to Voldemort and who hated anything touched by a wizard of less-than-pure blood, would  _never_  have done what she did of his own volition to another witch or wizard, much less one of his own family.”

Clicks and flashes from the press gallery lit the room as Draco turned his back on the court and walked back past Harry to where Scorpius sat. Ainsley slid over next to Dania to let Draco join Scorpius who couldn’t meet his eyes, but extended his hand, which Draco gratefully accepted.

“Will Albus Potter please come forward?”

Albus let out a slow exhale before limping over to the gate, leaving his cane behind. Harry reached his hands out as if he were going to help, but Albus shook his head and waved him off, making the long trek to the dais alone. When he got there, he took a moment to sneer at the accused, his eyes locked on Daphne who appeared to growl at him. He collapsed into the seat, his posture far less proper than Draco’s and Ainsley’s had been, and despite his injury, Scorpius realized he somehow managed to look dangerous.

“Albus,” Shacklebolt greeted him.

“Kingsley,” Albus said with familiarity. “How are the kids?”

“Well,” Shacklebolt replied. “How is Hogwarts?”

“It’s still there,” Albus confirmed.

“Shall we begin?”

“If we must.”

Shacklebolt smiled as he consulted the parchment in front of him, his spectacles restored to their place atop his nose.

Listening to his father’s account in full had been difficult enough, though Draco’s descriptions were clinical and he’d been careful to only state the facts. Scorpius found that Albus’ emotional retelling of the investigation was even harder to bear. He watched as Albus kept his eyes locked on Shacklebolt, the clean edges of his jaw tight as Shacklebolt’s questions got more and more difficult to answer, his voice hitching over what Scorpius knew were the harder moments.

When Shacklebolt began asking about December 30th, Scorpius saw Albus’ hands tighten around the arm of the chair and he looked up at Daphne with disgust.

“Mr. Potter - Albus,” Shacklebolt said, his voice softening. “How did you know Scorpius was in the Gingras mansion?”

Albus looked down at a spot in the floor ahead of him.

“Daphne took Scorpius because he’s very powerful,” Albus said. “We’ve already established that. He managed to shock me through the floor. Just a little. Just... enough.”

Albus looked over at him, and Scorpius remembered the moment clearly.

“And then Travers went to check on Pansy and Draco, and when we heard them start fighting, Daphne and Selwyn started attacking my father and I.”

“Can you tell me about the fight?”

“Selwyn cast Avada Kedavra on me,” Albus said. “I barely dodged.”

Shacklebolt looked up at the accused and shook his head, his face contorted in hatred - the first real show of emotion Scorpius had seen.

“And then Daphne cursed me just as Scorpius and Draco made it back upstairs,” Albus concluded. He patted his own knee. “And now I’ll likely never fly again.”

“Let the record show that Daphne Greengrass has been charged with causing permanent disability,” Shacklebolt said to the record keeper, whose fingers had yet to stop moving since the start of the trial.

“Do you have anything to add, Mr. Potter?” Shacklebolt asked.

“Yeah,” Albus said. “Let the record show that I hope she rots in hell.”

Shacklebolt smiled as if he’d expected no less. Albus stood with great effort and Shacklebolt nodded, releasing him from his obligation. Harry met Albus halfway and escorted him back to his seat.

“They’re evaluating you,” Draco muttered to Scorpius. “They’re looking into what you can do and whether or not you’re a threat.”

“Good,” Scorpius replied. “Let the  _Prophet_  write about it and no one will ever threaten me again.”

“You did well,” Harry assured Albus and he nodded as if he didn’t believe he did, and when he slid back down the aisle, holding onto the banister, he couldn’t meet Scorpius’ eyes.

There was a spare moment when Albus sat between Scorpius and Ainsley again when Scorpius took his hand tightly in both his own and looked at him, at his face and his eyes and the slope of his neck and his hair that wouldn’t stay where it belonged, and he fully appreciated that Albus would have looked for him for the rest of his life if he’d had to.

Scorpius opened his mouth to tell him just that, but Shacklebolt cleared his throat for silence in the room.

“Will Scorpius Malfoy please come forward?”

Scorpius’ heart sank and he closed his eyes, the sudden silence of the room pressing in on him.

“You’ll be fine,” said Draco, and Scorpius stood, swallowing hard, and walked to the dais with his head as high as he could manage, pointedly avoiding looking up at Daphne. As he passed, Harry gave him a single, respectful nod, and Scorpius reminded himself to thank Mr. Potter later for all that he’d done.

He took his seat at the center of the room, and looked up at Shacklebolt.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” Shacklebolt said with some measure of kindness.

“Hello, sir,” said Scorpius, folding his hands in his lap.

“I understand that this may be difficult for you, so you can take your time answering.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you tell me about the day you were abducted?”

That part was easy, Scorpius found. He told Shacklebolt - ignoring the rest of the Wizengamot, about Travers and Selwyn and Parkinson, and about Daphne’s explanation of her actions. He recounted as much as he could verbatim, until Daphne told Travers to torture him.

“For the record, you are saying Hugh Travers used the Cruciatus Curse on you,” Shacklebolt said.

“Yes,” said Scorpius. “And for the record, so did Daphne and Travers.”

“But not Parkinson?”

“Pansy Parkinson never raised her wand at me after Hogsmeade,” Scorpius said. “I want to make that very clear. She never laid a hand on me except to offer me food and aid behind Daphne’s back.”

He heard a few whispers from the crowd, and Shacklebolt held up his hand for silence.

“What happened over the next fifteen days?”

“It all runs together, sir,” Scorpius admitted.

“Do your best,” Shacklebolt said.

Scorpius took a deep breath and told them, slowly, taking a moment when he needed. He told them about the kept meals, the rat skeletons he slept beside each night, and the occasions when Travers and Selwyn would resort to physical violence to provoke him into a magical reaction. He told them about the near-daily use of the Cruciatus Curse, and in his periphery, he saw Albus rest his forehead against the black banister in front of them, unable to listen.

Scorpius kept his face straight, as empty as possible, making every effort to sound as clinical and factual as his father had, but he kept thinking about Albus and the nights neither of them could sleep. He thought about the way Daphne had told him he  _owed_  his mother something - the way she used Astoria against him - and how she’d shamed him for not seeking a wife to continue his family line.

Shacklebolt sat in silence for a moment when Scorpius stopped talking.

“We’ve already heard the account of when you were located,” Shacklebolt said, reviewing his notes. “Is there anything you would like to add?”

Scorpius was relieved. “No, sir.”

“I have a few more questions for you, then,” Shacklebolt began, regarding Scorpius carefully. “The first - are these the handcuffs, for lack of a better term, that you were restrained in?”

Scorpius heard movement behind him and looked around the edge of the chair where a Ministry deputy was walking towards him, only to be stopped by Harry, who took the dark wooden tray from the woman’s hands. Harry carried it to Scorpius himself, and he was grateful. The sight of the thick, iron restraints made him nauseated.

“Yes, sir,” he said, just loudly enough that Shacklebolt could hear.

He saw Harry look to Shacklebolt with an expression that plainly asked if this was necessary. Shacklebolt nodded.

“I’ve examined these myself, and they’re a very strange artifact,” Shacklebolt said. “There are old records of them dating back to the 1400s, and the Ministry records have no record of their whereabouts past 1846. For centuries they’ve been used to restrain wizards and witches and to stop them from using magic to escape.”

Scorpius nodded in understanding.

“My question, of course, is how you managed to alert the young Mr. Potter to your location.”

Scorpius swallowed hard and looked at Albus, who had his elbows on his knees and was looking at him through his fingers - small splotches of green that seemed kilometers away.

“I don’t know,” Scorpius said. “I think I got desperate enough on Christmas Eve that it just started happening, and the night before they found me I’d been experimenting - trying to do things while they were still on. I’d sensed Travers approaching while I was trying to meditate, and when I heard my dad’s voice, I tried it again.”

Scorpius stopped, but Shacklebolt gestured for him to continue, as this was clearly insufficient.

“It’s kind of like  _homenum revelio_ , but without a wand, and I thought of each of the rooms I’d been in - the ones I’d seen - and I just sensed something familiar. It was this sad kind of warmth, I guess - like a fireplace after being drenched in a cold rain - and I knew who it was.”

Shacklebolt looked down at Scorpius for a long time, longer than felt natural, and Scorpius knew he was being evaluated.

“My last question,” Shacklebolt said finally, “is if you were able to do all of these things, why didn’t you escape or disable your captors?”

“Every time those things came off my wrists, Daphne made sure I knew my father and Albus were being watched,” he said. “If I’d failed, she said she’d kill one of them.”

For the first time since he sat down, Scorpius looked up at Daphne and her wild eyes and disheveled hair. This, he decided, was how he wanted to remember her. Defeated.

“Is there anything else you would like to add, Mr. Malfoy?”

Scorpius looked back to Shacklebolt.

“I don’t...” Scorpius didn’t know how to say it adequately - to explain himself. “I don’t think Pansy knew what she had gotten into, really. And by the time she did, she was trapped. Just... please consider that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” Shacklebolt said. “Thank you for your testimony.”

Scorpius nodded and rose from the seat slowly, feeling as if he’d sat there for a hundred years, and he looked to the gallery gate where Harry waited on one side and Draco on the other. Draco wrapped his arms around Scorpius when he arrived, causing a new barrage of clicks and flashes from the press gallery, and Harry followed them through the gate as Shacklebolt stood at his podium.

“The Wizengamot will convene in private quarters to render judgment,” Shacklebolt announced. “We will let you know promptly when a verdict has been reached.”

Scorpius watched as the members of the Wizengamot filed from the room. Two wizards stood at the center of the room with their wands raised, and he watched as the accused’s holding cage slid back into the wall and a curtain was drawn.

“Why did he ask me so much?” Scorpius asked Harry.

“The Ministry has been pressured to assess whether or not you’re a danger,” Harry told him. “I’ve been led to believe that the questioning was a simple, public way to show that you aren’t.”

Hermione appeared at Harry’s side, along with Ginny.

“I’m sorry, Scorpius,” she said. “Kingsley trusts Harry and I, but the rest of the Wizengamot... he had to ask some of the questions they wanted.”

“A bit of warning would have been nice,” Scorpius muttered as Albus joined them. He had the distinct urge to kiss him, but wasn’t keen on seeing that on the front page of  _The Daily Prophet_  again.

“I only just heard about it before the trail began,” Harry said. “There wasn’t time to talk to you alone.”

Scorpius looked around at the witches and wizards leaving their seats - craning to get a better look at them. When he met their gaze, they looked away quickly.

“Are people going to be afraid of me now?” Scorpius asked.

“They will be for a while,” Harry told him. “But in time they’ll move on. Right now you’re just the latest piece of gossip.”

Scorpius felt Albus’ hand on his back.

“Besides,” Albus said, “it’s not like there’s going to be a lot of opportunity for you to become the next magical dictator when you’re working at the archives.”

Scorpius smiled faintly at him, and Albus met his eyes for the first time since he’d testified.

“I would have rather not relieved that,” Scorpius admitted.

“I know,” said Albus.

As they left the chamber, Scorpius and Draco walked slowly with Albus as Dania explained to Harry that her examination of Scorpius, and later Albus’ injury, had led her to be called in for questioning as well.

“Everything is on record,” said Dania.

“I’ve made it a point to better our recording practices,” said Hermione.

“Yeah, thanks for the extra paperwork,” Harry muttered. Hermione grinned.

“You always were terrible at taking notes.”

* * *

 

It was nearly sunset when word reached Harry’s office that the Wizengamot had reached a verdict. Albus, who had quickly claimed the dilapidated couch in the corner, was half asleep on Scorpius’ shoulder and had to be shaken awake.

“Come on, Al,” said Harry. Scorpius ruffled his hair, and got the predictable irritated response that, at the very least, woke him up.

“No,” groaned Albus.

“We’ve got to go,” Scorpius said. “They reached a decision.”

Ainsley, who leaned against Harry’s desk, drained her cup of tea.

“There’s only one decision she could reach,” she said.

“Still,” said Draco. “We have to be there.”

Together, they walked to the elevator and rode down to the Wizengamot chamber.

“I really hate these elevators,” moaned Albus, leaning back against the rail. “I’m never in them for anything good.”

“I came her once as a kid,” Scorpius told him. “Had to use the elevators to get to the Department of Magical Education.”

“Had you won something?” Albus asked flatly.

Scorpius smiled and nodded.

“Amateur potions competition,” Scorpius said. “Best ages eight to eleven.”

Albus scoffed mockingly. “Nerd.”

Albus saw Draco try to hide a contented smile, but he met Malfoy’s eyes all the same and understood. The things that made Scorpius who he was had been left largely unchanged, and for that, they were both grateful.

The doors opened and they joined the stream of people walking into the Wizengamot chamber, earning excessive glances and stares as they did. Scorpius kept his head down, staying between his father and Albus.

In the chamber, most of the members of the Wizengamot had taken their seats, and they sat once again in the front row reserved for witnesses. Scorpius didn’t watch as the remaining members took their places, and instead chose to pick at a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt, conflicted.

How could he be happy about seeing four peoples’ lives ruined? About putting his mother’s sister in Azkaban?

Albus nudged him with his shoulder and produced a chocoball from his pocket, holding it out to Scorpius. He took it gratefully, and Albus whispered -

“A wise person once told me sweets will always help you make friends.”

Scorpius grinned in spite of himself.

“Sounds like a dork.”

“Well, yes,” Albus agreed.

Shacklebolt stood in the center of the room and looked up at the now-exposed cage where Daphne could be seen, glaring down at all of them.

“The Wizengamot has reached a unanimous verdict on all charges,” Shacklebolt announced, his violet robes swaying as he paced, reading from a piece of parchment. Scorpius held his breath.

“Daphne Greengrass. You have been charged with kidnapping,” Shacklebolt held up his fingers to count the charges. In the end, he needed both his hands.

“Daphne Greengrass, upon hearing your testimony and that of witnesses, experts, and victims, you have been convicted of all charges.”

Whispers erupted from around the room, and Scorpius’ shoulders slumped as he leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. Albus placed his hand on at the nape of his neck.

“You are sentenced to live the rest of your days in Azkaban.”

Albus leaned forward and spoke quietly. “She can’t hurt anyone else now.”

“I know,” said Scorpius. “It wasn’t myself I was thinking about, mostly. It was the harm her way of thinking could do coupled with her level of determination.”

Scorpius looked past his father to Ainsley, whose head was bowed. Ginny stroked her hair in the caring, motherly way Scorpius was sure Daphne had never offered, and he hoped someday Ainsley would find her peace.

They listened in silence as Shacklebolt convicted Selwyn and Travers of similar charges, giving the same sentence. When he got to Pansy Parkinson, he paused.

“Pansy Parkinson,” he began. Scorpius looked up at Pansy who sat still as stone, looking down into the room.

“Miss Parkinson, you have been charged with the same crimes as your companions,” Shacklebolt said. “But the wronged party - Mr. Scorpius Malfoy - issued a petition that you not be sent to Azkaban for life.”

“You did  _what_?” Albus hissed.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” Scorpius said, his hands folded beneath his chin as he watched Shacklebolt.

Pansy Parkinson looked appropriately confused, but did not move.

“Based on this, the testimonies heard today, and your own testimony issued under veritaserum, the Wizengamot has determined your sentence to be three years in Azkaban, followed by a decade of house arrest to be enforced by Ministry personnel.”

Pansy looked down and scanned the faces below until she found Draco and Scorpius who both looked up at her. Though Scorpius sincerely hoped he would never see her again, he was grateful that, in some part, his wishes had been recognized.

“You are so much like your mother,” Draco told Scorpius as the press snapped their last photos of the trial. Scorpius smiled sadly at him.

“I try to be,” said Scorpius. “She was very forgiving.”

Shacklebolt adjourned the court, ordering the prisoners be taken directly to Azkaban, and as the crowd bled onto the marble floor in an effort to exit, he strode over to where the Malfoys, Potters, and their companions stood, gathering themselves.

“This must have been a terribly long day for all of you,” he said, greeting Harry and Draco with handshakes and Albus with half a hug.

“I had forgotten that you two know each other,” Scorpius said as Shacklebolt released Albus.

“I used to give this one piggy back rides,” Shacklebolt said. Albus blushed.

“That was a long time ago,” Albus grumbled.

“I did it until you were ten, Albus.”

Albus blushed even more.

“I am sorry that the questioning was so harsh,” Shacklebolt told them all. “This case was complicated, and the members of Wizengamot demanded a thorough interrogation.”

 _Evaluation,_  corrected Scorpius silently.

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Scorpius said. “I can finish at Hogwarts in peace and move on.”

Albus smiled at his side and took his hand as the others talked. He looked at Scorpius as he watched Draco keep his arm around Ainsley’s shoulder, and as Harry and Shacklebolt made grim remarks about Greengrass, Travers, and Selwyn. He watched Scorpius’ blue eyes move from face to face, studying them, and he watched as he bit his lip in uncertainty as Draco suggested dinner plans.

He knew this was a step in the right direction - that there would still be sleepless nights and nightmares and bad days - but it was a big step, and when Scorpius smiled, asking for spaghetti, since he got to pick and it was Ainsley’s favorite, Albus knew everything was going to be alright.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> This chapter was really, really long, but closure was necessary and it felt important to explore how each of these individuals would handle the situation. 
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> Also, when I said I wasn't sure who was still reading or if I was largely shouting into the void, I wasn't expecting that response. You guys are the best.
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> xoxo,  
> SP


	32. Inderlude

Scorpius woke in the middle of the night. He wasn’t sure why - his heart wasn’t racing and he didn’t remember having a nightmare - but he looked at the clock and saw that it was two in the morning, and when he came to his senses, he realized he wasn’t in his bed at Hogwarts and the long day of the trial came rushing back in flashes and feelings.

Albus slept peacefully beside him, snoring lightly, with one arm under his head and the other draped across Scorpius’ stomach.

Scorpius watched him sleep for several minutes, his hair messy and in his face, his lips slightly parted, all the tension and tightness he usually carried dissipated, leaving his face soft. Scorpius smiled and ran a finger down the line of his nose before pulling the blanket up higher around him.

Scorpius watched him sleep until he couldn’t stay still anymore, and gently peeled Albus’ arm back and slipped from the bed.

 _A glass of warm milk will help,_ Scorpius told himself, and headed for the kitchen.

The manor was empty and still and dark, but Draco had been leaving the lanterns on just a bit so instead of being frightening, the long walk to the kitchen was lit by a soft, flickering glow.

Scorpius tread carefully, barefoot, wrapping his arms around himself and wishing he’d grabbed a robe or a jumper, until he got to the first floor and heard a voice.

“I think he’s going to be okay.”

Scorpius frowned and followed it quietly. He couldn’t quite make out what came next, but he knew it was Draco’s voice, and he followed it until he got to the doorway.

_Is he up talking to Dania at this hour? Does she even stay here?_

Scorpius peeked in, fully intending to make his presence known, but what he saw instead was something he knew shouldn’t be disturbed. It also wasn’t something he should eavesdrop on, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away.

Draco sat in his favorite chair by the fire in black silk pajamas. His hair was loose around his shoulders - something Scorpius was sure he hadn’t seen for years - and he was leaning forward on his knees, a glass of brandy in his hand, staring up longingly at the portrait of his late wife.

“You would have been so proud of him today, Astoria,” Draco said. “He’s not like I was at all - not like I was when you met me. He was honest and open, and he’s so much stronger than I’ve given him credit for.”

Astoria stared down at him tenderly with a longing smile, her delicate, painted hands gripping a single red rose.

“And I’m so relieved - not just that it’s over, but if Daphne’s right, even though she’s insane, and he doesn’t bear your family curse, then I’m not going to -”

Draco’s voice gave out and Scorpius watched as he bowed his head.

“I’m not going to lose him.”

Silence fell on the room, and Scorpius stared at his father, mostly hidden behind the wall, but able to see a partial profile of Draco’s face as he gathered himself.

He heard a hearty sniff, and Draco raised the glass to his lips and took a sip, clearing his throat.

“It’s so strange, too - being around the Potters. I never thought they’d be  _family_ or that I’d have people I could count on, but that’s what Scorpius does. That’s what he’s always done. From the day he was born, he fixed me, and I wish you could see. I wish you were here.”

Scorpius wiped the tears from under his eyes with the cuff of his pajamas, watching as Astoria tilted her head and smiled down at Draco and Scorpius remembered that look - the way she’d smile down at him when he was playing or when he handed her a drawing. She was  _proud_  of him.

“He’ll be graduating soon. And he has Albus, and I  _really_  wanted to hate the kid,” Draco said, chuckling grimly to himself. “And now I feel awful because I never let you invite him over when they were young and you were here, and you never got to know the man our son fell in love with.”

Scorpius placed a hand over his mouth and leaned on the doorframe, listening to his father.

“I know he’s not healed. I don’t know that he’ll ever be. But he’s safe and we got so lucky. In so many ways.”

Draco stared up at his wife for a long time, and she smiled down at him. When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet.

“And I haven’t told you about her - if you’re even listening. I met someone. And I know you told me it was okay before you left. I know you said that I should move on and get remarried if I met the right person - but it’s so difficult because she isn’t you. And it’s also easy because she’s so different.”

Scorpius rested his forehead against the wall. The lines of Astoria’s face were blurred at a distance without his glasses on, but he could see her well enough to know she looked pleased.

“I couldn’t sleep until I told you those things,” Draco said, and Scorpius heard the smile in his father’s voice. Astoria smiled warmly at Draco and nodded, and when she reached forward as if she could touch him, Scorpius cleared his throat and stepped into the room.

Draco looked over his shoulder at him, not upset, but not thrilled either.

“What are you doing up at this hour? You have to go back to school tomorrow.”

“I could ask you the same question,” Scorpius said, walking in slowly. He sat down in his chair beside his father and looked at him.

“I talk to her sometimes,” Draco said after a moment. “I know the painting is just an echo and it’s not her, but it helps me sleep.”

Scorpius said nothing and just looked up at his mother. He’d stolen only a few quick glances at her portrait since December - each time he looked at it he saw Daphne, and it was hard enough looking at Ainsley - but seeing her now, smiling down at them both and looking between them, she looked very different from the mad aunt he’d seen at the trial.

“How much of that did you hear?” Draco asked.

“Enough.” Scorpius didn’t want to tell him how long he’d been there, and Draco didn’t ask.

He looked up at her for a moment longer before addressing his father.

“You should let yourself be happy,” Scorpius said. “She’d want you to be in love again.”

“I know,” replied Draco. “That’s what I’d want for her if the situation had been reversed.”

“I hope I get to know Dania better. Once school is over, I mean.”

Draco laughed. “I tell her about you all time. I’m confident she feels like she knows you.”

“Then tell me about her,” Scorpius said, drawing his legs up into the chair and wrapping his arms around his knees. He looked at Draco expectantly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius said with a grin. “I have to figure out if I approve or not.”

Draco leaned back into his chair and set his glass aside. He began telling Scorpius about Dania and her work as a healer and her knowledge of muggle medicine, and when he grabbed his wand and levitated a few more logs onto the fire, Scorpius smiled because if his father had that much to say, it meant he was happy.

* * *

 

Scorpius and Ainsley walked into the Great Hall at lunchtime, complaining to each other about the amount of work they had to catch up on to leave time to prepare for exams.

“I’m glad I’m not in my N.E.W.T year,” Ainsley confessed. “With all of this going on, I’m sure I’d fail.”

“I’m looking forward to them being over,” Scorpius said.

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Albus said from behind them. Scorpius stopped walking - they’d gotten too far ahead of him, and he couldn’t keep up. “Without Quidditch I feel like I have an extra day in my week.”

“Well, you’re used to more time restraints,” Ainsley said. “And I still have Quidditch.”

“Lucky you,” mumbled Albus as they got to the center of the room. He’d been scanning for a place to sit, but most of the tables were full. It wasn’t until he stopped to look around again that he noticed the hush in the hall and the eyes following them.

“There,” Albus said. “End of the Slytherin table.”

Scorpius caught the eye of some antagonistic Gryffindors. They looked away quickly, staring down at their plates.

“I think they’re afraid of me now,” Scorpius said with a yawn. His conversation with Draco had lasted until near dawn, and he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep.

“Good,” said Ainsley. “Maybe they’ll leave us alone.”

From behind him at the Ravenclaw table, Scorpius heard the words “mother” and “Azkaban,” and turned before he could think better of it. He recognized the voice - Janus Fortescue, the most annoying sixth year.

“What did you say?” Scorpius demanded, though he was pretty sure of what he heard.

Fortescue had always been an arrogant child, and when he stood up and folded his arms, Scorpius noted how comical they must look. He towered over the Ravenclaw.

“I said maybe they should have locked you and her up in Azkaban with her mother and we’d all be safer.”

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you,” Albus said, stepping to Scorpius’ shoulder.

“What are you going to do, Potter?” Janus asked. “Limp at me?”

Albus sighed and looked at Scorpius.

“Can I hit him with my cane? Please?”

“No,” said Scorpius. “We promised McGonagall.”

Fortescue smirked.

“Frankly, I’m surprised they let you back through the doors,” he said to Ainsley. “You’re either a Death Eater in training or you’re a complete idiot to have not known your mother was -”

Albus had his hand raised but was too late. A swift movement and a crack cut Fortescue’s monologue short. He stumbled backward and fell alongside the Ravenclaw bench, grasping at the back of his housemates’ robes.

“I didn’t promise Professor McGonagall anything.”

Ainsley shook out her hand with a grimace, but Albus grinned. He wasn’t sure she’d ever punched anyone before, but he’d be happy to teach her to do it right once she was done with detentions.

Scorpius folded his arms and watched as Professor Longbottom walked over, shaking his head.

Ainsley looked at Albus and Scorpius.

“Miss Greengrass!” Neville said. “Mr. Fortescue. Both of you come with me.”

“It’s somewhat liberating, I guess,” Ainsley said grimly as Neville helped a dazed Fortescue to his feet. “It’s not like they can write to my parents or anything.”

Scorpius watched her walk away with Neville as Fortescue held his nose, trying to stop the bleeding.

“I was going to punch him,” Albus admitted sheepishly.

“I know,” said Scorpius, restrained. “Ainsley shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, she shouldn’t have,” Albus agreed. “I’m going to have to teach her how to do it better.”

Scorpius looked down at him and shook his head while Albus grinned proudly.

“Still, she did shut him up.”

Scorpius turned and walked towards the vacant end of the Slytherin table, muttering.

“Maybe you _should_ have been a Gryffindor.”

* * *

 

Ainsley found Albus and Scorpius at their usual table at the back of the library, looking none too concerned about the weeks’ worth of detention she’d received.

“Honestly,” she told them, “it’s fine. Actually, Professor Longbottom seemed amused. But if I could do what you can do, Scorpius, I’m not sure I would have just ignored him.”

“I’ve decided I’m not interested in any more notoriety,” Scorpius said, striking out a few lines of an essay. “Once I’m done here, I want to live quietly.”

“And be a professional bookworm?” Albus asked, grinning and leaning back against the wall. He’d been taking a study break for nearly a half an hour and had been resorting to different methods of distracting Scorpius, which thus far had included throwing small wads of paper into his hair, tugging incessantly at his sleeves, and, most successfully, biting at his ear while he was trying to write.

“That’s the plan,” Scorpius said. “It sounds terribly exciting.”

“It sounds great,” Albus said warmly.

“Are you still moving in together after Hogwarts?” Ainsley asked.

“Yeah,” Albus said. “We have to find a place first.”

“So I’ll be alone at the manor with your dad?” Ainsley asked.

“Well, no,” Scorpius said. “We’ll be around. And you can always hang out with us at Harry’s place when we go over there.”

“Speaking of,” Ainsley said, looking at Albus and digging into the pocket of her robes. “I got a curious note from your brother today.”

“My brother?”

“Yes. Apparently, he heard about me punching the Ravenclaw,” she said, flattening the parchment out on the table. Albus took it and read it aloud.

“’Good job taking out Fortescue’,” Albus read. “’He always was a snot nosed little wanker, and he bent the bristles on my broomstick once. Next time I see you, drinks are on me’.”

Scorpius was surprised. “That sounds like James flirting.”

“That  _is_  James flirting,” Albus clarified. “Believe me, I know. He tried to give me lessons before Hogwarts - thought he was an expert.”

“Thank Merlin that didn’t take,” Scorpius mumbled. “Although you could have used lessons.”

“Like you’re a master,” Albus said, sarcastic.

“Why is your brother flirting with me?” Ainsley asked, bewildered.

Albus shrugged, running his hand over Scorpius’ back idly as he organized notes.

“You’re pretty and nice,” Albus said. “Maybe he just wants to see you again.”

Scorpius saw that she looked skeptical, and took his glasses off - a sign that he was done for the night.

“James isn’t bad,” Scorpius said. “Al is probably right. Besides, I’m sure he respects that you punched Fortescue. He’s kind of like his mum that way.”

Ainsley quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Albus said. “You’ll see him again at some point, though I am wondering how he knew. Lily, most likely. Or Rose.”

“Sounds like you made some fans today, Ainsley,” Scorpius said. “You’ll find the Potters and Weasleys love a good fight.”

“Well, it’s not going to make me popular in Hufflepuff, that’s for sure,” Ainsley said, standing up.

Scorpius looked up at her, sympathetic. “I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be everyone’s favorite person in Slytherin either. Besides class, I’ve been here today.”

“Well, I’ll let you know how it goes in the morning,” Ainsley said. “Get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

Ainsley hugged Scorpius and kissed his cheek, which he accepted gratefully. He’d always been jealous of Albus having family at Hogwarts, even when they didn’t always see eye to eye, and now he only regretted that he hadn’t reached out to Ainsley sooner.

He watched as she gave Albus a hug too before leaving and sighed, leaning over the table.

“There’s just so much to do,” Scorpius said, looking at their notes spread across the table. “Work on top of work and then reviewing for N.E.W.T.s.”

Scorpius looked at his calendar of classes and tests leading up to the exams. He was in a brief interlude between the holidays and the hardest part of the term and it didn’t feel like a break at all.

“Cut yourself some slack,” Albus said, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re brilliant. You probably don’t even need to study.”

Scorpius gave him a doubtful look.

“Not that I think you should stop studying,” Albus said. “You’re... kind of beautiful when you’re reading and focused on something.”

Scorpius leaned back to look at him with a wry, amused smile.

“What?”

Albus shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “You heard me.”

“Say it again.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re studying. And when you’re sleeping. And when you’re eating... basically all the time.”

“You’ve never said that before.”

“Well, it took me four years to tell you you’re kind even when you desperately needed to hear it,” Albus said with a soppy smile, resting his chin on Scorpius’ shoulder. “I’m not going to make that mistake anymore.”

Scorpius closed his eyes contentedly and rested his temple against Albus’ forehead.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Scorpius said. “And if you keep looking at me like that, we’re not going to make it back to the dorm.”

“You’re terrible at threats,” Albus said, reaching under Scorpius’ chair and pulling him closer. Scorpius draped an arm around Albus’ shoulders and brushed his lips against Albus’ cheek, nuzzling him gently as Albus ran his fingers over the sensitive spot behind Scorpius’ ear.

“I need to make sure you know things, and sometimes they’re the things I’m not good at saying,” Albus said quietly, and Scorpius wondered if anyone’s eyes had ever been greener or more earnest. “That you’re beautiful and kind and that I love you.”

Albus closed his eyes and breathed him in - all parchment and ink and pumpkin juice - turning his face into his collar. He wondered if the novelty of Scorpius being alive and warm would ever wear off.

He hoped it wouldn’t.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of quiet time and fluff seems well-deserved, don't you think?
> 
> Sorry for the posting delay. This last week was a mess!
> 
> Also - how cute are these babies?
> 
>  
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>   
> [Visit the artist's Tumblr.](http://plati-arts.tumblr.com/)


	33. Boggart

Spring had come early and summer, it seemed, was coming late. After a long day of studying outside in the sun, Scorpius’ cheeks were slightly pink but he felt no better about his impending tests, so he sought snacks and drinks to get himself and Albus through a long night of revisions.

Hot chocolate at midnight, Scorpius found, was not one of his better plans. He was stretched out beside the Slytherin common room fireplace with his notes and books spread around him, but as he sipped at his mug he found that the warmth and sweetness did more to make him sleepy than invigorate him.

Albus, stretched out beside him, placed his notes down and lay his head in his arms. The rest of the students had gone to bed, but Scorpius, determined to rest tomorrow night before the tests began, was nearly convinced they needed an all-nighter. They were less than 48-hours from their N.E.W.T exams, and every minute counted.

“I’m so tired,” Albus said. “Why did I do this to myself?”

“Because you have more ambition than you give yourself credit for,” Scorpius said.

“Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology,  _and_  Transfiguration,” Albus lamented. “There’s no way I can do this.”

“Of course there is,” Scorpius assured him, sitting up. “I’m doing it. Here, let me quiz you.”

Scorpius pulled one of Albus’ note sheets from under his arm and lay across his back to ensure he had a captive audience. Albus groaned in protest.

“List, in order of discovery, the twelve uses of Dragon blood.”

“Are you seriously starting with a question that has to do with Albus Dumbledore?” Albus asked. He rolled over onto his back, but Scorpius stayed lying on top of him.

“Answer the question.” Scorpius demanded.

Albus sighed and listed the uses one by one, ticking them off on his fingers.

“Good,” said Scorpius. He raised up and gave Albus a peck on the cheek. “Tell me about how to deal with an injured hippogriff.”

“Do I get kisses when I’m right?”

“Yes.”

Albus gave a detailed account of how to temper an injured and hostile hippogriff, right down to the potions to use to sedate them if bones needed to be reset or wounds needed to be dressed.

“Great! Okay, how do you approach -”

“No,” Albus said slowly. “Kiss.”

Scorpius laughed and kissed him.

“Mmmm,” Albus hummed sleepily, stretching. “You taste like hot chocolate.”

Scorpius took another sip of his drink before continuing.

“What are the main ingredients for a wolfsbane potion?”

Albus listed them all and then looked at Scorpius expectantly.

“Seriously?”

“I’m a rewards-based creature, Scorpius,” Albus sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “Unless you want me to fail, you’re going to have to work with me here.”

“You’re infuriating sometimes,” Scorpius said, but kissed him anyway.

Albus grinned and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down for more. He kissed Scorpius deeply, moving his hand through his hair to keep him close and biting at his lower lip.

Scorpius laughed against Albus, and when he was released elected to stretched out on the carpet beside him.

“What was that for?”

Albus shrugged, looking up at him. “Good luck?”

“You don’t need luck,” Scorpius assured him. “You’ve loved Care of Magical Creatures since the first day in third year.”

“But I need to do well in potions too -”

“Which you haven’t had a problem with for the last two years.”

“But -”

“But nothing,” Scorpius said. “I’m more worried about my exams than yours, and that should tell you something.”

“But you’re solid in every subject,” Albus reminded him.

“Not all of them,” Scorpius said, sitting cross legged and sifting through the papers. “And we both know I haven’t been paying attention as well this term.”

“You’ve been doing better,” Albus said. “You’ve only had one bad night this week.”

“It’s May, Albus,” Scorpius said shortly. “It’s been months.”

Albus propped himself up on his elbows, at a loss. Scorpius tried desperately to ignore his cane leaning against the nearby armchair - his daily reminder of what he’d come to call ‘that night.’

“I’m worried about my Defense practicum,” Scorpius said quietly.

“That’s the last thing you should be worried about. You might not be in Dueling Club anymore, but you were good, and -”

“What if they throw a boggart at me?”

Scorpius looked away from him and started picking at loose threads on the carpet.

Albus sat up beside him with some effort, leaning over to face him.

“What if they throw a boggart at you?” Albus asked. “You’ll know exactly what it is, and you’ll know that whatever it shows you isn’t real.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I’m not even sure I can do the practicum,” Albus said. “What if they ask me to defend myself?”

Scorpius glanced up at the black cane. It felt imposing, like it was staring back at him.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “I’ll be there with you before, I think. I’ll be able to at least loosen your leg up a bit before you go in.”

“I appreciate that, but it’s not the point,” Albus said. “You can handle it.”

Scorpius looked doubtful.

“What do you think it will turn into?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “It could be the Dementors. It could be Daphne. It could be my mother.”

“I’m sorry,” Albus said, eyebrows knit together in concern.

“You’re cute when you’re worried.”

“I’m cute all the time,” Albus said with mock arrogance, flopping back on the ground dramatically. “Which will be useful when fail my N.E.W.Ts and have to sell my body because I’m jobless.”

“Well, I better keep quizzing you, then,” Scorpius said, picking up the notes. “I’m a Malfoy and an only child. I’m not good at sharing.”

* * *

 

Two days of tests hadn’t left much time for talking or relaxing. After the first day, Albus and Scorpius had fallen asleep side by side after staring up at the ceiling, dazed, for a long time.

“Defense and Creatures,” Albus said. “That’s all that’s left.”

“History for me after this,” Scorpius told him. They sat in the hall outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts practicum testing room, and for the millionth time, Scorpius was grateful that their surnames were close enough in the alphabet that they wound up waiting in line together. He ran his hand over Albus’ thigh with his hands over-warm, trying to help him to relax into a state of semi-comfort while Pucey obsessively reviewed his notes from Albus’ other side.

“You’re going to do fine,” Albus told him, his own nervousness coming through. “It’s only two more.”

“We should do something fun tonight,” Scorpius said. “Read or play cards or something.”

“I like that your idea of ‘fun and unwinding’ is reading,” Albus said with an anxious smile.

“It’ll get my mind off how bad that charms exam felt this morning,” Scorpius said.

Throughout all his other exams, Scorpius had dreaded his last two the most - Magical History because he worried he was over-confident, and Defense Against the Dark Arts because it alone had the potential to make him lose control, and he hadn’t felt this close to it since winter.

“Your hand is really warm,” Albus said uncomfortably. Scorpius looked down and shook his hand out, willing his skin to cool off.

“Sorry,” he said. More noise came from inside the room, indicating the previous exam had completed. “Preoccupied.”

“The written exam for this wasn’t hard,” Albus said. “So it should buffer...”

Albus realized Scorpius couldn’t hear him - he was somewhere else entirely, listening to the muffled voices from beyond the door. He reached up and nudged his boyfriend’s glasses back into place and straightened his collar.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered. From his other side, Pucey agreed.

“Scorp?”

Scorpius jolted and looked at them. He opened his mouth to speak, but the heavy door opened and the previous student was ushered from the room and directed down the opposite end of the hall.

“They won’t let me talk to you after,” Scorpius reminded Albus. “So good luck.”

“We don’t need luck,” Albus reminded him, giving his hand a hearty squeeze.

Scorpius nodded and pulled himself to his feet, and Professor McGonagall ushered him into the room.

Four aurors stood in the room and Scorpius recognized two of them from the trial.

“This is Scorpius Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall announced unnecessarily, handing over a folder with Scorpius’ full name written on the top. One of the aurors accepted it and nodded, and Scorpius took the moment to look around the room.

The large classroom had been cleared of desks, and along the edges of the room stood a series of towering wardrobes - all mismatched, some in serious disrepair. At the center was a blue, glowing mark.

Scorpius shrugged off his robe and hung it on the hook by the door, clutching his wand in his hand.

“Center of the room,” said one of the aurors, pointing at the marker. Scorpius walked towards it slowly, full of trepidation and sudden worry for Albus. His leg hadn’t been good. If he lost his balance -

“You’re going to be presented with a series of challenges,” one of the aurors said, clearly bored. The Slytherins had gone last, so he’d done this at least twenty times already.

“You will be scored on your use of defensive techniques and spells and your reaction times. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Scorpius confirmed.

“Are you prepared?”

The aurors took their places in the four corners of the room, each of them standing at the corner of the wardrobe rows.

“Yes, sir.”

Scorpius stepped back with one foot, his wand raised, though he didn’t know where to look. The uncertainty had shivers running up and down his spine and he had to remember to breathe, that he was at Hogwarts and nothing was going to happen -

A rush of air came from behind him and Scorpius spun, ducking a small swarm of doxies that had come at him from one of the wardrobes. With a quick knockback jinx, he dispatched them towards the edges of the room where they fell, unconscious.

To his left, one of the aurors stepped forward, wand raised, and quickly cast a jinx -

 _“Ebublio!_ ”

“ _Protego!_ ”

Scorpius defended himself with ease, but still, his heart was racing. The last time he’d had to use that spell -

Another door opened and Scorpius heard the cries before he saw them spilling from the doors.

“Erklings,” he muttered, and raised is wand at the small, bird-like creatures rushing towards him. It only took a second for them to lock onto his location and begin shooting darts at him from their beaks. Scorpius jumped to avoid one.

“ _Immobulus!_ ” he cried, and they fell over to the ground, suddenly still.

Scorpius calmed a bit, feeling more confident as the test continued, and he blocked two more jinxes from the aurors and ducked a third before dispatching a smaller acromantula.

“ _Depulso!”_

The acromantula flew back against the wall, hitting with a  _thud_ , and when silence fell on the room, Scorpius thought he was done.

Then he heard another creak from behind him - the sound of rusted hinges being opened. It was the same sound the desk in the Gringras drawing room made when Daphne would open one of the small storage doors to pull out a book or her wand during their longer sessions - the same sound as the dungeon grate being wrenched open, sending rusted metal chips floating to the stone steps below.

Scorpius knew what was behind him, but had no idea what he would see. All the possibilities ran through his mind in the second it took him to turn and raise his wand.

Dementor. Daphne. Umbridge. Voldemort. Delphi. His mother’s body lying cold in its casket. It could have been any of those things.

But it wasn’t.

Found himself face to face with... himself.

The boggart Scorpius was dressed in all black, his eyes un-filtered by glasses but dark and menacing below a furrowed brow. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, the severe collar of his over-formal robes making the lines of his face extreme and jagged - like the young Lucius Malfoy he’d seen in weathered photographs.

In his hand, he held Scorpius’ first wand, twirling it between his long fingers - Scorpius’ fingers - his mouth contorted somewhere between a sneer and a smirk - something Scorpius wasn’t even sure he could get his face to do.

The Scorpion King, all grown up, with electricity sparking between his fingers. The Scorpion king with matured powers.

Scorpius’ lips parted in surprise and he froze for the first time in the exam, gripping his wand tightly. His eyes traveled down the body of the boggart’s replication of himself and he stared, horrified at the Scorpion King’s feet.

Bodies. There were bodies on the floor around the Scorpion King, and as Scorpius’ eyes came into focus he saw faces.

Rose and Lily - a tangle of red hair.

Ainsley in bloodied yellow Quidditch robes.

Maggie, Flint and Farley with broken, mangled brooms. Pucey with a dislocated jaw.

Draco and Astoria lay beside each other, their hands intertwined and broken, Astoria’s hair bloodied.

Albus lay at the front, a stream of blood running from his lips. Only Albus’ eyes were open, staring at him blankly, his mouth agape as if he had been surprised by something unpleasant, his hand half open with the cord of his amulet wrapped around his fingers.

Scorpius stared at his dead green eyes and tried to tell himself that Albus - the real Albus was right outside the door, waiting for him to come out. He was outside, alive, probably going over spells with Pucey - some last minute studying - but the Albus in front of him was so lifeless and blue and cold looking, and Draco and Astoria were so broken behind him.

“Oh, what you could have been. If only you’d stayed.”

 _How do you make it funny?_ Scorpius asked himself.

_Riddikulus. Riddikulus. Riddikulus._

The Scorpion King sneered at him with a twisted grin.

“If only you’d waited,” he said, his voice cold, stepping over the bodies. His foot, heavy in dark snakeskin boots, fell on the lifeless Albus’ open hand and Scorpius heard the telltale crack of breaking bones.

“What you could have been there with your powers now.”

Scorpius raised his wand with a shaking hand, trying hard to think of the what the Scorpion King really was - hollow and devoid of any love - anything that Scorpius thought made life worth living. He sucked in a deep breath, fighting against the pain in his chest that felt much like a swollen heart that was taking too much space.

“ _Riddikulus.”_

The Scorpion King shuddered and Scorpius watched as small fracture lines formed across his face, spiderwebbing across his bewildered expression until all at once the illusion shattered like a broken doll, the pieces dissipating into wisps of color and then nothing as they fell.

Scorpius closed his eyes, begging whatever deity existed for the exam to be over. He heard one of the aurors step forward.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” he said. “That completes your examination.”

Scorpius was out of the room before the auror could finish his sentence.

He pushed through the door with such momentum that he caught himself across the opposite wall in the corridor, his arm braced against it as he caught his breath, trying to shake off the image.

“Mr. Malfoy?”

Professor McGonagall was behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He flinched.

He heard Albus struggling to get up and the awkward shuffle of his steps as he tried to approach.

“Scorp -”

“Mr. Potter, stay where you are,” she said. “Students who have completed their examination cannot speak with those who have yet to be tested.”

“Professor McGonagall -” Albus protested, outraged, and Scorpius shook his head, turning around.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice so tight and restrained that he knew he couldn’t convince anyone.

“No, you’re not!”

“Mr. Potter,” said one of the aurors, “we’re ready for you.”

“Let Pucey go first. I -”

“Students must complete the examination in order,” the auror said. “No exceptions.”

“I have to go to my History of Magic Exam,” Scorpius said, his voice shaking. He grabbed his bag off the floor. “Take your exam, Al.”

He turned, before he could meet Albus’ eyes and hear any more questions or protests, and walked down the corridor towards the Great Hall.

* * *

 

Albus had checked everywhere - the Slytherin common room, the library, the kitchens, their favorite tree by the lake - but in the end, he knew he should have checked the Astronomy Tower first.

He made the long trek up the stairs, taking each step slowly. It had been a long day and his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam had been a bit too physical to precede a long stint of sitting for his Care of Magical Creatures written test and a hunt across Hogwarts for Scorpius Malfoy.

By the time he reached the top, Albus was exhausted and his leg was aching like it hadn’t in weeks. He tugged at the door, but it wouldn’t open - the sign most students used to indicate the tower was “in use,” which was widely respected.

But he was certain Scorpius was up there, and he didn’t care whose snogging session he interrupted to make sure.

“ _Alohamora.”_

He wrenched the door open and was greeted with a blast of pleasant late-spring air as he stepped out onto the tower’s stone observatory.

Scorpius was at the far end of the tower, looking out over the grounds with his arms folded over the railing. He didn’t seem to notice Albus’ arrival, so Albus shut the door behind himself quietly and watched for a moment, hoping to gauge his mood.

He remembered the first time they’d ever come up here in their second year for class. They were barely able to see over the top of the railing then, and now Scorpius towered over it, bent to lean on the top bar and look down.

So much had changed.

“I know you’re there, Al,” Scorpius said suddenly.

“I was trying to let you think for a moment longer,” Albus said, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. It had been the wrong day to test movement without his cane.

Albus joined him at the railing, looking out over the edges of the lake and forest, still bright and green from springtime.

“I didn’t get the boggart,” Albus said. “I don’t think everyone did.”

“How’d you know?”

“I can’t imagine much else making Malfoy the Unanxious run from a room like that.”

Scorpius snorted, still pointedly avoiding looking at Albus, who decided not to press the issue.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t,” Scorpius admitted, looking down. “How did the rest of it go?”

“It was a breeze, actually,” Albus said. “Care of Magical Creatures wasn’t bad either, though I was a little distracted.”

Scorpius stayed silent, his gaze very far away. Albus noticed his glasses were tucked into the top of his partially unbuttoned shirt, and his tie hung loose from his pocket - rare public unkemptness for a Malfoy. Clearly, he wasn’t really looking at the trees or anything at all.

“What happened?”

“You already said. I drew the boggart.”

Scorpius swallowed hard, staring out over the tops of the trees.

Albus placed a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder like he had a million times before, and Scorpius winced.

“What’s wrong, Scorp?” Albus asked. “What did you see?”

“Do I have to?”

“No, because clearly something has bothered you, and it’s a problem,” Albus said. “And your problems are my problems.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Scorpius said.

“It’s not about what’s fair,” Albus said. He leaned heavily on the rail and Scorpius sighed.

“Let’s sit down,” he said and wrapped his arm around Albus, who leaned on him gratefully. Scorpius took him to the stone column they often read against and together they slid to the floor.

Scorpius leaned back, resting his head against the granite and closing his eyes. Albus plucked his hand from his lap and held it, sitting in silence for several minutes.

“Talk to me, Scorp,” Albus entreated.

Scorpius stared off for a moment before speaking.

“It was the Scorpion King,” he said finally.

“So your boggart was 14-year-old self?”

“Hardly,” Scorpius said coldly. “It was the Scorpion King all grown up. He’s what I would have been in that timeline with the powers I have now.”

“Oh,” Albus said. “Well, that’s not too bad, is it?”

“And he was standing on a pile of bodies.”

“That’s not good.”

“It was my dad, and Ainsley, and my mum,” Scorpius began. “Lily, Rose, Maggie, Flint, Farley and Pucey. And you.”

“We’re all fine,” Albus said. “Well, except your mum. See? I’m fine. I’m right here.”

Scorpius said nothing and just looked down at his hands.

“Scorpius, it was a boggart. It wasn’t real,” Albus reminded him.

“I know  _that_ ,” Scorpius said. “But that is what I’m afraid of. Still.”

Albus shifted to sit facing him.

“You’re never going to be that person,” Albus said. “You can’t be. I stand by what I said - you’re good and kind, from the depths of your belly to the tips of your fingers.”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt all of you somehow,” Scorpius said, his voice so quiet Albus nearly didn’t hear. “That I’ll snap or do something accidentally and...”

His voice trailed off. Albus reached up and tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind his ear before tapping under his chin the same way Scorpius did when he didn’t pay attention to something important.

Scorpius looked up at him from under his pale eyelashes, and Albus saw that his eyes and cheeks were red from the stress.

“You haven’t had any problems since December,” Albus reminded him. “You’ve been fine. You haven’t even accidentally hurt me.”

“What if I’m not always fine?” Scorpius asked. “What if something changes?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Albus assured him, grasping his hand. “And we’ll cross it together.”

Scorpius looked up at him - at his messy hair and bright green eyes, completely alive - and managed a small smile.

“It’s not going to be a good night after this,” Scorpius warned. “Not after seeing that. Seeing you staring up at me like that.”

“That’s okay,” Albus assured him. “I’ll take the good nights with the bad ones.”

Scorpius held out his hand, beckoning Albus to come closer.

“Let me take a look at that leg,” he said, and Albus slid closer, letting Scorpius run his warm hands over his thigh and calf, kneading all the sore places like it was second nature. Albus watched him as the breeze blew in from the forest. The sun was setting over the tree tops, making everything bright and golden.

“I didn’t think you’d come up here,” Scorpius admitted.

“Well, I looked everywhere else.”

Albus winced as Scorpius dug his palm into a tight knot of muscles in his quadricep.

“You don’t say,” Scorpius said, sarcastically. “You shouldn’t have. I just needed some quiet. I would have come down soon. It’s roast beef day.”

Albus chuckled and rested his forehead against Scorpius’ shoulder.

“See? You’re not hurting me. You’re helping.”

“I wish I could heal you,” Scorpius said. “Every day, I wish I could fix it or take it from you somehow.”

“I don’t,” Albus said. “I’m not unhappy. And things aren’t bad, Scorpius. Nothing has changed since this morning - you’re just shaken up. Graduation is in a couple weeks. We’re going on a vacation. Unless I really screwed up my Magical Creatures N.E.W.T., we’ve both got good jobs in London.”

Scorpius’ hands stilled and he looked up at Albus with a half-smile.

“It could be worse,” Scorpius said. “It could have been so much worse.”

“Look at us. Being optimistic.”

“A far cry from when we started here,” Scorpius said, looking out over the grounds.

“This feels like the end,” Albus said. “I know there’s still the end of term events, and we have the wrap-up classes and the leavers ball, but we just finished the last of our N.E.W.T.s.”

“The rest of it’s just... celebrating. It does feel like the end,” Scorpius admitted. “I couldn’t have possibly imagined seven years ago that we’d be here.”

Albus watched as he closed his eyes, taking in the warmth from the sunset, and smiled to himself.

“It’ll be a beginning, too,” Albus reminded him and Scorpius looked at him, clearly still upset but far more calm. Albus kissed him lightly, his arm draped lazily around Scorpius’ shoulder, which earned him a genuine smile when they broke apart.

“Do you want to go down to dinner?” Albus asked.

Scorpius shook his head and leaned into him, resting against his shoulder. Albus wrapped his arm around Scorpius protectively as another breeze whistled through the tower.

“Just a few more minutes,” Scorpius said, beginning to draw circles between Albus’ shoulder blades with his fingertips.

Albus knew things weren’t perfect, but for the moment, he had his best friend and boyfriend - conveniently the same person - at the top of Hogwarts’ highest tower on a quiet spring evening without tests or studying to worry about. It was more than he could have asked for and more than he knew he deserved, but he’d take it anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truth: Writing this has been the only bright spot in my day, so thanks for the encouragement. 
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP


	34. Graduation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter might give you cavities.

The long house tables of the Great Hall had been cleared away. Along the edges of the room were stands where families were packed in shoulder to shoulder, leaving a long aisle in the center for the Hogwarts graduates. They sat in rows according to their houses, and at the top of the stands, Draco Malfoy sat among the Potters and Weasleys and Grangers - right in the middle between Harry and Bill Weasley. Being with them back at Hogwarts gave Draco the most twisted sense of deja vu - except this time, he wasn’t at the Slytherin table participating in the idle chatter of the wealthy and bored.

The Slytherin girls were walking across the stage, and Draco looked down at Scorpius. He was easy to spot in the sea of black robes - his white-blonde hair stood out amongst the crowd, and Draco wondered if Lucius would have looked down to find him at his graduation all those years ago if the castle hadn’t been destroyed.

“I can’t believe they’re graduating,” Bill said for the millionth time as Molly dabbed tears from her eyes. She’d been crying since the Gryffindors had lined up - long before Rose’s name had even been called.

Since Draco had arrived and joined them, they’d been sharing stories of Albus and Rose’s youth - how much they’d grown and changed - and even though he was quite pleased Dania had decided to accompany him, Draco was feeling Astoria’s absence once again.

 _You’d be so proud of our boy_ , Draco thought.

The Slytherin boys stood up and got in line as their classmates accepted their diplomas from Professor McGonagall. He watched as Scorpius helped Albus into line, surrounded by their roommates and thought of his own graduation - or lack thereof.

A mailed diploma with a Hogwarts seal and a small, tasteless cake his mother made by hand.

“I’m very grateful,” Draco said, controlled, “that he had a different Hogwarts experience than I did. That he’s getting a real graduation.”

“The diploma in my office is honorary,” Harry said, relaxing back against the wall with this arms folded. “At least yours is real.”

In front of them, Dania turned around and smiled, seated between Hermione and Ainsley, who was chatting with Hugo about what they’d do after their graduation.

“Are they happy to be done?”

“I think so,” said Harry. “I know the last couple years weren’t too bad, but the first ones weren’t the best for Albus and Scorpius. You know what they say about first impressions.”

Draco smiled, watching as Albus rested his head against Scorpius’ shoulder while they waited. He saw Scorpius smile, and when he turned his head to look around for his family, Draco waved.

“He’s such a nice boy,” said Molly, also waving to him. Arthur raised his hand enthusiastically and Albus laughed at them.

“They’re both nice boys,” Ainsley said as James convinced Hugo to switch seats with him.

Harry and Ginny sat up straight, holding each other’s hands tightly as Farley crossed the stage. Scorpius was standing on the steps behind Flint, and even from a distance, Draco could see his grin. When his Flint’s name was called, they exchanged words and Scorpius and Albus both threw their heads back in laughter.

Below them amongst the spectators, Flint’s family cheered, and for the briefest of moments, Draco was scared - scared that it would be only him clapping for his son and that his mother’s absence would be even more noticeable. He remembered cleaning the paint off of Scorpius’ trunk when he came home after his second year and the tearful tales he’d told Astoria of what students had called him.

He needn't have worried. When McGonagall called Scorpius Malfoy’s name, the entire Potter-Weasley-Granger family stood up with him and cheered - a deafening roar that joined polite applause in echoing around the room. There were so many of them - the largest family in the room, and they cheered for his son like he was one of their own.

As he reached Professor McGonagall, Draco saw Scorpius look up to where they sat and he grinned - the big, broad, bright grin Draco remembered from when Scorpius was a child and would discover something new. It was the way he’d looked when he’d learned to read and when he experienced something for the first time. He received a handshake from McGonagall and she kept him there a moment longer than the others before giving him a pat on his shoulder with his diploma, and Scorpius walked to the other end of the stage.

Unlike the others, he didn’t step down to rejoin his classmates. He stood at the edge near the stairs and waited, grinning up at his dad and the family he’d gotten so close to as they cheered for Albus.

Albus walked toward McGonagall - slower than the others, but more steady than he’d been - and received his diploma with a few extra words from the headmistress.

Draco and Harry watched, side by side, as Albus met Scorpius at the edge of the stairs and together the stepped down, leaning on each other.

“I’m not sure that it’s my place to be proud of Albus,” Draco admitted, “but I’m very proud of them both.”

“I am too,” Harry told him, and they exchanged sideways smile. “I think they’ll be alright.”

* * *

 

Albus and Scorpius waited out on the lawn for their families with Flint, who was gleefully carrying Maggie around on his back.

“It’s over!” said Flint.

“We didn’t win the cup like we wanted, though,” Albus said, a bit melancholy. Scorpius took his hand.

“It’s alright, mate,” said Flint.

“At least it went to Gryffindor and not Hufflepuff,” Maggie said brightly. “I haven’t forgiven them for what Marcus did.”

“Hey,” cried Ainsley, approaching at a jog. “Don’t be talking bad about Hufflepuff.”

Scorpius released Albus as Ainsley threw her arms around his neck, and he lifted her off the ground for a moment, smiling and hugging her tight.

“Thanks for being here,” he said as he set her on the ground.

“Where else would I be?”

Ainsley smiled up at him, and Scorpius was wholeheartedly grateful that she had become a part of his family. He watched as his father approached with the Potters, Weasleys, and Grangers, Rose in tow with her diploma. Hermione held her daughter’s sash - the one that indicated she’d come in second in her class - appraising it.

“It’s not the end of the world, Rose,” Hermione said. “You’re still brilliant.”

The disgruntled look on Rose’s face told Scorpius she was clearly not of the same opinion.

As Draco congratulated and hugged his son tightly, Scorpius looked at all of them - Albus and Ainsley and Harry and Ginny - their family and friends as they embraced and kissed each other, and when Draco released him they drew Scorpius in too, hugging him and kissing him like he was one of their own.

He was scared, he realized, as Molly Weasley hugged him and patted his cheek, telling him how proud she was. He was afraid that someday - tomorrow, or some day in the future - things with Albus might not work out and that he’d not only lose his boyfriend and best friend - he’d lose this family that he’d grown to love all in the same breath.

Scorpius turned and saw Draco standing with his hands on Albus’ shoulders and Albus was no longer grinning. Scorpius released Charlie Weasley’s handshake and moved to approach them, but Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Let them talk,” she said gently.

“Is something wrong?”

Ginny shook her head, looking up at him and smiling so warmly that Scorpius thought if his mother couldn’t be there, Mrs. Potter was the next best thing.

“Harry and I have spent some time with your father over this last term,” Ginny said. “I don’t think I realized it before, but Draco and Albus - they have a unique bond now.”

Scorpius looked back over to them just as Albus pulled Draco into a tight hug - one that Draco clearly hadn’t anticipated, but he reciprocated after a moment, patting Albus on the back.

As Rose gave him a friendly nudge, passing by in the cluster of her family, Scorpius looked down at Ginny. He was much taller than her now, but the fierce affection she looked at her family - and now him - with made him feel very small indeed.

“Because of me?”

Ginny smiled and nodded, drawing Scorpius down into a warm, gentle hug that she held for a long time.

“Because of you.”

* * *

 

The boys’ dorm was a mess, and Albus couldn’t find half of his clothes.

“I’m short a shoe,” he called to Scorpius, who promptly crouched down to look under the bed.

“Seriously, Al?” Scorpius said, emerging with Albus’ missing dress shoe and his tie.

Albus grinned. “Thanks.”

Scorpius shook his head in mock annoyance, but broke into a smile. Albus was staring at him with a soft expression - the kind he wore when he was remembering something.

“What?”

“Nothing, really,” Albus said. “We’ve spent seven years in this place and this is the last night we’ll be here.”

“Good riddance,” said Pucey, emerging from the bathroom in his dress robes. “You two are going to be late.”

“We spent too long with my family,” Albus said. “They like to talk.”

“And hug,” supplemented Scorpius. “They hug  _a lot_.”

Pucey laughed and tossed his uniform in his trunk unceremoniously, slamming the lid shut.

“See you downstairs?”

“We’ll be there in a bit.”

Pucey clapped Albus on the shoulder on his way from the room, and Albus sat down on the edge of Scorpius’ bed.

“It’s finally over,” said Scorpius, relieved.

“Easy for you to say,” grumbled Albus. “You ranked right behind Rose in our class -”

“I’m going to be bitter about that forever.”

“You’re not waiting on your N.E.W.Ts to see if you have a job.”

“I’m sure you did fine,” said Scorpius, but he wasn’t sure. He felt guilty that his boggart incident had distracted Albus during his Care of Magical Creatures exam, and sincerely hoped it hadn’t cost Albus his place at the Magizoology Society. He wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for Albus’ limp  _and_  the loss of the job he wanted.

Albus looked up at him, absently massaging his thigh. “The potion is wearing off.”

“It was only ever going to get you through a few hours,” Scorpius said sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“I wish it had lasted longer,” Albus admitted.

“If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to.”

“Of course I do,” Albus said. “After the fiasco of that Christmas Ball last year and... well, and the informal one we didn’t get to at the end of the fall term...”

Scorpius looked down and shuffled his feet. Albus grabbed his hand and tugged at him until he came over to stand in front of him.

“I just want to go to our last Hogwarts dance with my boyfriend,” Albus said. “And if I break my neck trying to dance with him, it’s fine because he’s brilliant and can probably heal it on the spot.”

“Your Quidditch scratches were one thing,” Scorpius laughed. “A spinal injury is completely different.”

Albus chuckled and wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ waist, turning his face against his stomach.

“I think this is the longest I’ve been mostly happy in my life,” Albus said. “I guess gratitude does that to you.”

Scorpius ran his fingers through Albus’ hair, smoothing it down.

“What were you talking to my dad about?”

“Hmm?” hummed Albus, muffled by Scorpius’ jumper.

“A little while ago. When you hugged him.”

“Oh, you saw that?” Albus asked, looking up at Scorpius again. “I think your dad only likes hugging you.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Can I promise that I’ll tell you someday?” Albus asked. “Just not today?”

Scorpius rolled his eyes and stepped back.

“Secrets? Really?”

“It’s not a secret. It’s just something between me and your dad. And yes, I know that’s strange.”

Scorpius folded his arms, perturbed. He didn’t like not knowing things, especially when it came to his father or Albus, and this involved both of them.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“He told me that he was proud of me, and he thanked me again for taking care of you these last few months,” Albus said. “And he told me that no matter what happens between you and me, that he’d always be there if I needed him.”

“That’s... actually really nice,” said Scorpius. “I was actually thinking earlier that if something happens between us...”

Albus frowned up at him, brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if we break up,” Scorpius said, “that I’d really miss your family.”

Albus blinked at him. “I’ve never even considered that we’d break up. Not since the last Christmas dance.”

“Really?”

“No. I honestly don’t even think I’ve thought of it.” Albus suddenly looked horrified. “Are you unhappy?”

“No! Not at all,” said Scorpius quickly, flustered. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant that if you get sick of me or something I’d really miss your family because I care about them, but I’m not - I’m not really thinking about those things. Bad things. We’ve just always been at Hogwarts and I wonder what it will be like after.”

“Okay,” said Albus, relieved, but not entirely believing. He fell silent and played with Scorpius’ fingers until he stepped back to remove his jumper and get changed.

“Wait,” said Albus.

“For what?”

“Just... hold on.”

Albus shuffled over to his trunk and dug around in it, throwing out mismatched socks and old quills until he found what he was looking for - an old camera. He stood up and checked the film and, satisfied, placed the camera in the top shelf of his wardrobe, near eye level.

Scorpius watched, confused.

“If this is the last time we’ll ever be in our uniforms... I want to remember it,” Albus said, smiling over his shoulder. “We grew up in these things. And when I think back on it, I don’t want to remember us sulking around in second year hating our house and this place. I want to remember us like we are now.”

“Crippled and having fever dreams most nights?”

Albus glared at him playfully. “Together. Even though it took a while.”

Albus pressed the timer on the camera and Scorpius watched as it blinked and Albus hopped back towards him and pulled him into alignment with the lens. They didn’t have many photos together - not just the two of them - and just as the light pulsed steady and the shudder opened, he turned and kissed Albus’ cheek and he laughed.

That was what he wanted to remember.

* * *

 

All the seventh years were milling about with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces when Albus and Scorpius entered the Great Hall. It was draped in all the house banners - not as resplendent as the holiday parties, but far more familiar and warm.

 _It’s nice_ , thought Scorpius,  _to leave without hating this place._

Scorpius stood on his toes and looked around for familiar faces as Albus fiddled with the cufflinks his father had given him as a gift earlier.

“I bet it killed him,” Albus muttered, running his fingers over the dark green stones, “buying the Slytherin ones.”

Scorpius waved to Ainsley, who grabbed them both drinks as she passed the refreshment table. She was wearing the set of black and gold dress robes Draco had bought for her over Easter break.

“Thanks for inviting me!” she said for the tenth time.

“I couldn’t let my plus-one go to waste,” Scorpius said, taking a sip. The Butterbeer was warm and sweet - not unlike the day had felt.

“I wasn’t allowed to,” Albus grumbled again.

“Who’d you give yours to?”

“My brother,” Albus said. “He still knows a lot of people here.”

Ainsley wrinkled her nose for just a second and Albus quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Problem?”

“No. Your brother is fine. I shouldn’t... It doesn’t matter,” said Ainsley dismissively. She instead led them towards the tables near the dance floor. “Not right now.”

Scorpius watched Albus limping out of the corner of his eye, anxious.

“Al, are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” said Albus, but Scorpius was familiar with all of his smiles, and this was the one he used to cover up pain and frustration. He fell silent until they reached the table Ainsley had picked and sat down to take snacks from the ever-replenishing seven-tiered serving tower at the center of the table.

“Oh! It’s those little eclairs you like,” he said, and held one out to Albus, who took it with a somewhat-sad smile.

Rose emerged from the mass of students, grinning in her deep red dress robes.

“Can you believe it?” she asked, falling into the empty chair next to Albus. She took a sip of his Butterbeer.

“Believe what?” asked Albus.

“That we’ve graduated! I’ll be sad, you know,” she told them. “I’ve loved Hogwarts from the day we got here. But it’ll be good to be at the Ministry.”

“So your mum found you a place?” asked Scorpius. Rose narrowed her eyes at him a bit.

“No, mum did  _not_ ,” she told him. “I applied for a position in the Department of Games and Sports all on my own. I didn’t want her pulling strings for me.”

Scorpius decided it wasn’t a good idea to remind her that her last name was enough to get her any job she wanted even without the Minister’s interference, so he busied himself with the cuffs of his shirt, making sure they covered the scars on his wrists.

“I can’t wait until I’m done here,” said Ainsley. “Not that I dislike it. But I’d rather be out there helping people.”

“What do you want to do when you graduate?” Rose asked her earnestly. Ainsley shrugged.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I’ve got some ideas, but I haven’t really made up my mind.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do great,” Albus said.

“Your marks are solid. And you’re excellent in Charms,” said Scorpius.

Ainsley smiled at them and opened her mouth to reply, but James appeared behind his brother and clapped him on the back.

“Ready to go be an adult?” James asked.

“Not at all,” said Albus with a grin.

“I think your Leavers Ball is better than mine,” James admitted. “Better music.”

Albus opened his mouth to disagree - Scorpius knew he hated the song that was playing - but he didn’t get the chance. A rogue arm came around Scorpius’ side and seized a glass of water, and before he knew it, one of the pretty, blonde Gryffindor girls from their year threw it in James’ face, drenching his hair and the top of his robes.

“ _That_ ,” the Gryffindor said, “is for what you did last spring.”

And she stalked off without another word. Scorpius looked up at James as he wiped the water from his eyes and cheeks.

“Did you deserve that?” Ainsley asked coolly.

“I probably did,” muttered James. Albus looked up, both amused and sympathetic, and saw that his brother had gone quite red, much like their mother did when she was embarrassed.

“What did you do to her?” Scorpius asked. James cringed

“I’d rather not talk about it,” he admitted, using his wand and a few quick charms to dry the shoulders of his charcoal robes. “It was a long time ago.”

“I don’t know, James,” said Rose. “It probably isn’t to her. Last year isn’t all that long ago.”

James looked defeated and shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes.

“Can’t a guy change?” he asked Rose. “Look - Scorpius spent all those years asking you out and now he’s with Albus and everyone accepts that. Can’t I have outgrown some things?”

“I wouldn’t say  _everyone_ accepts it,” corrected Scorpius. The Gryffindors that had said uncharitable things about his relationship with Albus - the one that had caused his first public outburst - were just visible in the crowd.

“Everyone who matters,” said James. “I  _am_  trying, you know.”

Ainsley sighed and stood up, smoothing out her robes and tucking away a stray lock of her hair.

“Come on,” she said. She held her hand out to James, who stared at it for a moment before looking up at her. “Dance with me.”

Albus had seen James through several brief relationships. He’d met several of the girls he’d dated, and had even liked a few of them before James would inevitably decide he wanted to see someone else or play the field. Albus had even believed James had cared about some of his girlfriends.

But he’d never seen his brother look at anyone the way he looked at Ainsley Greengrass in that moment. The James he’d known for years would have never let a girl know how much a gesture like that meant to him, but when James offered her his arm and they walked towards the dance floor, he looked delighted.

“Wait,” said Rose. “James still gets what he wants even when he’s been insulted for being rude to another girl in the past?”

“James always gets what he wants,” Albus reminded her, shaking his head and watching his brother as the music changed and he began dancing slowly with Ainsley. “All those Christmases...”

Rose laughed as she stood, draining the rest of Albus’ Butterbeer.

“So true,” she said. “I’ll see the two of you later. This is my last chance to dance with Bradley Powell before he heads off to the States and I’m not wasting it.”

“Go get him,” Albus encouraged her.

Scorpius waved to her as she left.

“I like your family,” he said, resting his chin atop Albus’ shoulder.

“They’re alright” said Albus. “I think we’ve all gotten better.”

Scorpius noticed Albus tapping his fingers on his knee, his jaw tight and tense.

“We don’t have to dance or anything,” Scorpius said softly. “We can just be here. It’s nice.”

Albus shook his head and smiled over his shoulder, reaching inside the pocket of his robes. Scorpius couldn’t see what he was doing, and before he could stop it, Albus unstoppered a vial and drank its blue contents in a single gulp.

“Al!”

“What?” said Albus, cringing at the taste. He tossed the empty vial down on the table, and Scorpius’ suspicions were confirmed. It was another dose of the painkilling potion he’d taken earlier in the day to get through the graduation ceremony.

“You know the side effects! You already took one dose today.”

“I’ll take the hangover if it means I can dance with you, finally,” said Albus, chasing the potion with a few sips of water and standing, testing his balance for a few seconds before deeming it satisfactory.

“Come on,” he said, nodding to the dance floor and extending his hand. “I think after everything we deserve a single dance.”

Scorpius looked at his extended hand - the one he’d taken so many times before - and felt a sudden rush of nostalgia.

He’d followed Albus into trouble so many times - off a train, through time, into arguments he didn’t need to be in, and even into a couple fights - and he knew that even as they were leaving Hogwarts and their childhoods behind, he’d follow Albus Potter anywhere he asked.

Scorpius took his hand and Albus led him, still with a slight limp, into the crowd of their peers - the familiar faces that would line his memories, for better or worse - weaving their way through friends and acquaintances and old potions partners. They passed the people who had called them the Son of Voldemort and the Slytherin Squib and the Slytherins who had defended them and the ones who had joined in on the jeering. They wove through Gryffindors who had bullied them and the Weasleys’ friends who had tried to put a stop to it, and Janus Fortescue, whose nose still didn’t look quite right.

Scorpius found a clear spot on the floor and pulled Albus close - glad that the music had slowed down for the moment. He took one of Albus’ hands in his own and placed another hand on his side - the one that always ached, and as Albus did the same, pulling him closer, he felt so entirely ordinary for the first time in a year that he swallowed hard, gathering himself.

“What is it?” Albus asked as they swayed on the spot, neither of them wanting to lead.

“It’s just so normal,” Scorpius said.

Albus grinned - a real smile that reached his bright green eyes. It was the kind of smile that Scorpius didn’t see too often. It was the kind that he often felt he had to earn.

“It  _is_  normal,” Albus said. “I’m Albus. Just Albus. And you’re just Scorpius.”

“And that’s it?”

“And that’s it.”

They smiled at each other, and Albus looked at him with such fondness that Scorpius felt certain Albus Potter would follow him anywhere too – but hadn’t he already? As they swayed with the music, Scorpius thought of all the times Albus had taken care of him - from the calming talks before a big test to the way he’d spent the night on the floor of the Malfoy Manor’s sitting room, holding his hand.

_I’ll let you take me to hell this summer, if you want._

After so many complicated days and nights, Scorpius found himself wholly present - a sensation he barely remembered - just dancing with his boyfriend and not caring at all what anyone thought, and was, for the moment, completely and entirely happy.

* * *

 

Albus couldn’t decide whether he wanted to remember his last moments at Hogwarts or not, but as he surveyed the Slytherin boys’ dorm for any remaining items that he or Scorpius could have forgotten after their roommates had cleared away their things, he couldn’t help seeing flashes of the last seven years as he gathered stray socks and papers.

“Strange to think that we won’t be coming back,” said Scorpius from beside his bed.

Albus stared at the bed, neatly made, and wondered who would be the next Slytherin to occupy it. That person would never know that he had Scorpius Malfoy’s bed, or how many nightmares and tears those pillows had seen. He’d never know that Albus Potter had spent his last term sleeping in that bed, telling everyone that it was for Scorpius’ benefit when he knew it was also for his own.

“I don’t mind,” admitted Albus, sitting on his trunk by the door. He was tired and sore, and his stomach was deeply unhappy with the amount of potion he’d consumed the previous day. “I think this place is done with us.”

Scorpius smiled as he cleaned his glasses on the edge of his shirt. He wanted a good look at the room one last time and decided he wanted to remember the happier things about Hogwarts.

“Do you remember that night before finals in fifth year?”

Albus laughed. “How could I forget?”

Scorpius grinned at him, replacing his glasses on his face.

“I think that was the most terrifying moment of my life,” said Scorpius, crossing his arms. “Up to that point. If you forget about the whole Voldemort Day incident.”

“I spent two years  _trying_  to forget that.”

“I couldn’t stop shaking,” Scorpius reminisced. “I was so happy. I would have been happy with you just  _telling_ me you fancied me.”

“So kissing you without warning was overkill?”

“You could have given me a heart attack.”

“That would have been disappointing,” Albus admitted. “Imagine explaining that to Madam Pomfrey.”

Scorpius reached up and extinguished the lantern over his bed for the last time and ran his hand over the surface of his desk.

“It’s never been perfect,” Scorpius lamented. “But we always had each other.”

“And it’s always been enough.”

Scorpius grabbed the handles of their trunks and Albus pulled his rucksack over his back.

“Do you need your ‘walking stick’?” Scorpius asked, imitating his father.

“No, I’ll be okay for a while,” Albus assured him.

Scorpius nodded and took one last glance at their dorm before heading down the hall, and Albus closed the door behind himself.

The Hogwarts Express pulled into King’s Cross exactly on time as it did every year, and like every year, Platform 9 3/4 was full of parents and grandparents, brothers and sisters, waiting to pick up their loved ones.

Scorpius scanned the faces through the window as the train slowed to a halt, and saw his father talking to Harry and Ginny in the distance.

“Al?”

Scorpius looked down to where Albus was tucked into his shoulder, fast asleep. Both he and Rose had lasted only a few minutes on the train before passing out. Rose was exhausted form staying up until dawn, and Albus was feeling the effects of taking too much painkilling potion.

Albus didn’t stir, and Scorpius, whose arm had been numb for an hour, looked to Ainsley, who was putting away her book.

“Dad’s outside,” Scorpius told her.

“This is the first time my mother hasn’t been here to pick me up,” Ainsley said softly. “I’m not upset. It’s just... strange.”

“I know,” Scorpius said. “A lot has changed.”

“The Ministry is trying to locate my father,” she said. “I don’t know what they’re going to find.”

She looked out the window as the train jerked to a halt, waking both Rose and Albus.

“Are we there already?” Rose groaned.

Albus turned his face against Scorpius’ shoulder, leaving only a mess of wavy black hair visible.

“Come on, sleepy-Albus,” Scorpius said quietly. “We’ve got to get off the train.”

“Already? Five more minutes.”

Albus wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ waist, holding him in place. Ainsley smiled at them fondly as Scorpius took his fingers, full of pins and needles, and ran them through Albus’ hair.

“We’ve got to go,” he whispered to Albus.

Albus huffed and sat up, rubbing his eyes until they felt clear and looking out the window, blinking at the light.

“Okay,” he said finally. “If we have to.”

Albus and Rose pulled themselves up and Scorpius retrieved their bags from the rack.

“I’ll be happy to see my cat,” Scorpius admitted. “I hated leaving her.”

“Too much with N.E.W.Ts and all,” Rose said. “I’m still stressed and it’s been over for two weeks.”

“You guys are stressing me out a year in advance,” said Ainsley.

Albus grumbled, looking down at his leg as Scorpius slung their bags over his back.

“You okay?”

Albus looked at him for a second before nodding and smiling crookedly.

“I’m fine,” Albus assured, just before he kissed Scorpius’ cheek and limped from the compartment behind Rose and Ainsley.

Scorpius stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the last time with a bit of trepidation, and he looked down the length of the scarlet engine, steam billowing from the front. The crowd in front of him was oppressive - he hadn’t been in such a group outside of Hogwarts in a long time, save for the trial - and he was suddenly aware of all the eyes on him and the faces turning and whispering behind hands.

His father was meters away, through rows and rows of waiting families, and it seemed like a terribly long distance to traverse, and Ainsley and Rose had already disappeared into the crowd. He saw a father from the corner of his eye look him over and pull his young daughter close, protective.

Scorpius’ felt himself go red until a familiar face pushed its way back through the crowd. Albus held out his hand for Scorpius with a smile.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” said Albus. “Together, this time.”

Scorpius smiled and caught Albus’ fingers, letting himself be pulled into the crowd until Albus had his arm around his shoulders and his lips pressed to Scorpius’ temple. They wove their way through the people and Scorpius held onto Albus’ waist tightly, grounded and safe.

Albus looked at all the people staring as they passed, and smirked.

“Still think we’ll be able to live quietly after Hogwarts?”

“Probably not,” admitted Scorpius. “We have a tendency to make sensational headlines.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Albus as they reached the Potters and Draco, enveloped once again by the strange, patchwork-family they’d somehow assembled.

Scorpius didn’t know what was going to happen next or where he’d end up, and after everything he’d seen, he knew that thought should be frightening. But as Albus grinned at him over Lily’s head, exchanging greetings with Draco and his parents, Scorpius knew that at the very least, he’d always know where home was.

-Fin-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the end of 'Quietly.'
> 
> No, I'm not done with Scorpius and Albus or this continuity. 
> 
> Upon realizing this was longer than 'Prisoner of Azkaban', I figured it was time to turn it into a series, so you'll be able to start reading the next installment in a few days' time. It will pick up a short time after this chapter left off.
> 
> Welcome to 'The Quietly Series.'
> 
> (I'm bad at names)
> 
> Note: I'm not going to mark 'Quietly' as complete until I'm done editing each chapter and cleaning it up, possibly adding in some of the scenes and items I cut previously.
> 
> If you want updates before then (or to see some fantastic fanart), head on over to my [ Tumblr ](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/) and I'll try to post some updates and you can send me your thoughts.
> 
> Writing this fic has been an absolute dream and I thank you all for the support and comments you've given over the last few weeks. It's meant the world to me and this has been an excellent experience as I've fallen in love with this universe all over again. 
> 
> I sincerely hope you'll join me for 'Seasons' and 'Softly,' which are already in the preliminary stages.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> xoxo,  
> SP

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in in this work. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.


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